


Tea Leaves and Roselite - Al'atfal (Children)

by TNKT



Series: Tea Leaves and Roselite [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Affectionate, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Amnesiac Child, Angst, Birds, Blood and Injury, Bruises, Bullying, Childhood Trauma, Children, Circus, Dark Past, Developing Friendships, Emotionally Repressed, Family Secrets, Fear of Abandonment, Gen, Growing Up Together, Hand to Hand Combat, Haunting, Headaches & Migraines, Hidden Depths, Hidden Species, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Messenger Bird, Mind Manipulation, Parent Death, Past Character Death, Persecution, Protective Siblings, Rival Breeds, Seaside, Self-Discovery, Siblings, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, Tactile, Touch-Starved, Training, Trauma, Undecided Relationship(s), Visions, anger issues, opposite personalities, sailors, taming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9003481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TNKT/pseuds/TNKT
Summary: The child is lost when he resurfaces. Everything is new and unknown around him, and strangely empty. There is blood on his clothes, blood which he doesn't recognize, and the sun's white light is scorching. He needs to find a place to rest, quick, before the exhaustion catches up again : so he starts walking on the deserted path.He finds a dried-up well, and there he encounters a man with kind blue eyes. Although no one can say where the child belongs, the man and his children give him a home and a family.They grow and learn together.They have both dreams and duties.And soon, they come to understand who it is they are meant to be. (Edit 26/02/2018 - Finally got around to illustrating some, here's a link if you're curious: https://tanukitan.deviantart.com/gallery/65771863/Tea-Leaves-and-Roselite)





	1. The Wound

When he wakes up, everything around him hurts. 

Too loud, too colourful, too strong... He immediately throws up on the ground where he's lying.  
Once his stomach is completely empty and his retching stops, he stays there to try and catch his breath. His eyes roam around the scenery, but he doesn't recognize anything. He doesn't know where he is. The only thing he knows is that it's hot, it stinks a lot, and that he feels grimy.   
He slowly gets from a slumping to a sitting position, pushing himself up with thin, shaky arms. His back hits a hard surface, but when he whips his head around to check what it is, a jolt of pain runs up his neck and he hisses, his hand flying up to the sore and throbbing spot. He feels something sticky and wet under the palm of his hand, and when he retracts his hand to bring it up to his face, he sees that his fingers are covered in red.  
 _Blood_.  
That's right, the glistening liquid covering his hand is blood. What about it?  
 _Bad_.  
Horror suddenly invades him and his eyes widen. That's a lot of blood. Is he going to die?  
 _What... happened?_  
What happened? How did he get this blood on him? No, how did he even end up here?

And that's when he realizes.

He doesn't know. He doesn't remember anything, anything at all. How he got here, how he got hurt, nothing comes to mind and so he immediately tries to remember the most important thing: who he is.  
Something in his mind slides ever so slightly, a small bubble, a whisper, and suddenly he thinks he might know that his name starts with a T. No, he knows it does, his name is on the tip of his tongue. Although his mouth is ready to speak it, his memory won't relinquish the precious word, and he tries to force his mind to cooperate, to stop resisting; but try as he might, it won't come back. His name, it's right there on the brink of his mind, but still it remains out of his reach and he has to give up. His body's urges are more important to attend to. He needs to quench his thirst quickly, or he feels it might drive him crazy. If there's one thing he knows, it's that he can't stay here.  
He painstakingly pushes himself off the ground, but the effort leaves him winded and dizzy and he has to lean against the wall to catch his breath. Panting, he squints and looks around him again. His surroundings are still too bright, and when he lifts his gaze to the sky, he sees the sun is right above his head. It's the middle of the day.

He feels his eyes starting to water from the light, so he lowers his gaze and edges towards the nearest shadow. Once he reaches it, he stops again and stares ahead. The road is completely empty. Where is he? Why is he all alone? Why aren't there any people here?  
He feels scared, yet... oddly at peace.  
Dust flies around in the harsh burning wind, and he brings his hand up to shield his face from the whirlwind of sand rising off the ground. He has no idea what he's supposed to do. Keep going? It's not like he has much of a choice. His throat is parched, and he needs to find water as soon as possible.

He walks for a mile, alone, in the deserted town. Even the fields are empty. The only sounds he can hear are the low whispers of the wind and his own panting, and as much as he tries to peer through the broken windows he can't see a single sign of life. He's so distracted by the haunting air of the town that he doesn't watch his step and trips, his hands and knees violently hitting the ground.  
"Ouch!"  
The word doesn't really come out the way he thought it would, it turns out to be more a croak than a hiss. He straightens laboriously, checking his knees and palms: they're scraped, of course. It's not too bad. His neck, however, still hurts a lot. And he feels like it might still be bleeding, but he's not sure if it's sweat or blood trickling down his back, and he doesn't want to twist around and check. The only thing it'll bring him is more pain.  
He peels off his shirt and places it over the wound, hoping it will stop the bleeding, if that is indeed what's happening to the painful spot. As he uncovers himself, he notices the bruises on him for the first time. He frowns and tries to get a closer look to the purple spots on his sides. Now that he's noticed them... He does feel a little sore all over. The purple spots have a strange pattern to them, grouped in fours yet evenly spaced.   
He still has no idea what happened. He tries to suppress the fear and panic growing in his chest. He knows this isn't normal, he's afraid of what this might mean, but for his own sake he needs to push onwards. The only thing he should focus in is the present, or thirst won't be the only thing that drives him crazy.

He starts advancing again, the sun's rays beating against his back. He thinks he's probably going to get sunburn, but that doesn't matter as much as his thirst. He keeps walking, on and on, along the empty road and desolate buildings. There are some shops, but they're all closed, and he doesn't feel like he would be strong enough to break in. Besides, with the way things are, he doubts there is anything left in those shops.  
His feet finally bring him to what seems to be a well. He hastily steps up to it and pulls himself over the side to peer into the gaping hole, but it's too dark and he can't see the bottom. He leans farther over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of water.  
"Be careful!"  
A hand suddenly grabs him and he whirls around, surprised. His eyes cross those of a grown man and he squeaks in alarm, jerking free and stepping away from the blue-eyed stranger. Then sounds reach his ears and his eyes catch the movement of a colourful shape beyond the man. When he finally understands the view unfolding before him, his jaw drops.

The town is filled with people, shacks and animals, peddlers calling out to the crowd and music filling the air. The smells of spices and warm food float about, birds are pecking at the ground in front of imprisoned ones: a cat runs across the road, a fish in its mouth, and disappears behind a wheelcart. An old man is sitting down at the crossroads, holding a stick in one hand and a brown cup in another, asking for money in an aged, broken voice. 

A dog barks behind him and he whirls around, his feet a bit unsteady as he gapes at the new setting. The ground under his feet feels different, and when he looks down, he notices that it's a lot less dusty and bumpy than before. Then he turns to his left when he hears the laughter of women next to him, and watches, dumbfounded, as they lower their jars and flasks in the well and pull them out overflowing with water. He doesn't know what to do, how to react.  
"Forgive my sudden gesture," says the blue-eyed man. "I did not mean to frighten you, but you were about to fall in."  
He looks up at him wordlessly.  
The blue-eyed man frowns. "Are you all right, young one?"  
"I..." he utters with a cracked voice, completely lost. "I um, I don't know."  
The blue-eyed man pulls his hand out of the well, holding a water-filled cup. "Here, drink. You seem to be in dire need of it."  
He looks at the cup, then at the tall, dark-skinned man, then back at the cup. His hand shoots out and grabs it, and he practically spills half of the water on his face in his haste to drink.  
"My name is Isurus," says the blue-eyed man as he greedily gulps it down.  
"...Nice to meet you," he answers after finishing his drink, and timidly hands back the cup. Now that his thirst isn't blinding him anymore, he notices more things about his benefactor than the color of his eyes. The man's dark brown hair is grown out a bit, and the strands reaching his nape are tied together. A benevolent smile illuminates the man's tan face, and his deep blue eyes have a kindness to them that makes him feel a bit better, but he can't help but feel intimidated by the air of defined elegance and charisma that surrounds the man called Isurus.  
The blue-eyed man takes the goblet from his hands with a slightly questioning gaze. He seems to be waiting for more, but the boy doesn't know what.

Isurus stares at the boy. He's been following him for a while now, intrigued by the color of his eyes and the trance he seemed to be lost into. It had called something to his mind, and he'd felt the need to check. But now he doesn't know what to make of him. Maybe the boy isn't in his right mind. He seems totally confused and it looks like he's gone through hell with the blood on his shirt and his teared up pants. With that eye color... it's not surprising. Not only that, but Isurus has never seen skin so pale in these parts. The boy seems so young and clueless, standing there in the middle of the crowd, and Isurus suspects he might be just about two or three years older than his little niece.  
"Do you need some help? Are you lost, perhaps?" inquires the man while he stows the cup in his shoulder bag.  
"Well... A little bit," answers the boy. "Could you tell me where I am?"  
"You are in the town of Holsith."  
The boy's face remains clueless and his eyes flit about in an attempt to recognize his surroundings. Then he looks back at Isurus and opens his mouth hesitantly. "Um... and that's near...?"  
"Well, the nearest city would be Cidell."  
The boy doesn't react to the name. He seems confused.  
"Is something wrong?" asks the man.  
"I... I just... Cidell?"   
"Yes, that is correct. It is a very big city. Could it be you are not familiar with that place?"  
The boy looks at the water glimmering in the well and softly shakes his head. "...No. I don't think I am."  
He falls silent then, and Isurus watches the child concernedly. When the boy does not speak again, Isurus decides to take this matter in his own hands. "I believe you are in need of a bit of shelter, as you are clearly lost. We should get that wound treated. Would you like to come with me, so we can go somewhere quieter?"  
The boy nods without looking away from the well, and Isurus hears someone nearing both of them.

The man turns around and faces Sphyrna. His little niece is holding fruit and meat in her arms, and she blows a strand of pale brown hair out of the way before speaking.  
"I finished getting what we needed. What did you find?"  
The blue-eyed man gestures to the boy, whose gaze is lost in the water. "This boy seems like he could use some help."  
The girl stares at the boy with blatant curiosity, and then peers at him. "His eyes..."  
"Do not stare at him like that, Sphyrna."  
She looks up at the man, her expression suddenly cautious. "Isn't that supposed to be a bad color?"  
Isurus sighs. "Did you learn anything from my teachings? Are you still trusting rumours over facts?"  
Her apprehensively tightened lips curl into a pout, and she heaves up the bag to get a better grip on the groceries. "I'm just being careful."  
"There is no need. Please avoid giving him that look, he is going to get enough of those on the way back home."  
The girl stares at the strange boy and nods. "I'll try not to."

Isurus tells the boy that they are leaving, and the child looks up at him with lost eyes ; but he does not say anything, and follows the man when he starts walking away from the well. The boy looks at Sphyrna inquisitively, but the little girl walks ahead and doesn't try to speak to him. Isurus finds this surprising, considering her usual curiosity, but then figures that she doesn't dare approach such a strange-looking child because of the stories. Isurus briefly wonders if the lost child feels bad about being ignored by his niece in such an obvious way, but the boy seems too tired to realize. Isurus has to trail a bit behind Sphyrna so the boy can keep up with them despite his slow pace and stumbling gait. Isurus suspects that the boy has given in to his fatigue and is no longer paying any attention to his surroundings, now that he has found someone to follow and to guide him to a presumably safe place. It intrigues Isurus that the boy isn't acting wary at all, given how out of place he seems to be. Perhaps he is too tired to even notice that he is trusting a complete stranger.  
In fact, his eyes have a glazed quality to them as they start climbing the slope that leads to Isurus' home, as if the boy is just about ready to fall asleep. His eyes are not flitting about anymore, and he keeps his head down in watching his step.

He lingers when Isurus and his niece pass the small tree that stands at the top of the slope, as the man has seen happen several times in this particular place, and only keeps walking when Isurus gently guides him forward. The boy does not notice they've arrived in front of a house before Isurus taps his shoulder and asks him to raise his head. Then his eyes widen at the the sight of tall white pillars, and he lets his head fall back when he looks up to see where the walls end and the roof begins. Isurus lets him marvel at the architecture for a moment, then tells him to come inside.

When Isurus opens the front door to his house, the two children following his trail, he is greeted by an abrupt question. The voice is young, but carries a wary sharpness that does not quite suit its carrier and already sounds angry. "Who's this guy?"  
His nephew stands in the entry, with his arms crossed over his chest in a bristling stance as he draws himself up to his full height. It isn't much for a boy his age, but it is enough to seem impressive to an outsider. Isurus gives him a disapproving look, but the boy doesn't show any sign of caring and his transparent eyes are staring at the newcomer with their usual cold expression. 

Isurus steps aside to let the children in, and answers: "Someone you should be nice with. It won't hurt you, now will it?"  
"He's dirty." His nephew glares at the boy that lingers in the doorway, and pulls a disgusted face. "And he stinks."  
"Carcha," warns the man. "Watch that mouth of yours."  
"But it's true," exclaims the boy with challenging eyes.  
"Go outside and stay there. We have no need for you if you refuse to be of any help."  
"Fine," spits his nephew, uncrossing his arms and marching out the door. He doesn't fail to shove the other boy out of his way when he leaves, and the boy stumbles. He almost trips over, but Isurus grabs him by the shoulder to steady him.   
The man sighs and pats the younger boy's shoulder reassuringly once he has regained his balance. "Do not pay him any mind. He can sometimes be a bit difficult."  
Sphyrna lets go of the groceries on the table with a huff, and turns to them both. "He just wants everyone to pay attention to him. He acts like a big baddie and goes 'hey, look at me, I'm so tough' because he thinks that's cool, but me, I think it just makes him look stupid."  
Isurus stares at her with a reproachful look but doesn't reprimand her out loud. After all, her badmouthing holds a bit of truth.  
"It's fine," says the boy. "I understand. I'll go as soon as you want me to."  
"Sphyrna, can you get a bath ready please?"  
"Sure thing, Uncle Isu."

As the girl walks off, Isurus gives the boy a careful once-over. His knees are injured, scraped. His hands seem to be as well. Then there are the bruises, which look like imprints of a hand, all over the top half of his body.  
"Do you mind if I take your shirt off that wound, erm..." Isurus pauses, suddenly aware that something is missing. "Forgive me for not asking earlier, but what might your name be?"  
The boy lifts his gaze up to meet his, and only then does he notice the boy's troubled expression. There is small beat of silence, and then the boy opens his mouth slowly. "I..." He hesitates, and lowers his eyes. "...I don't know."  
Isurus frowns in confusion. "Do you not have a name?"  
"Well, I.." The boy shifts uneasily. "I think... I forgot it..."  
"And how old are you?"  
"...Eleven, I think."  
"How so?"  
The boy continues avoiding his stare. "...I'm not really sure. About my age, I mean."

Isurus stays quiet for a moment. The boy does look like he could be about that age, but this display of confusion is quite worrying.  
"Do you remember hitting your head or anything of sorts?" asks the man, eyeing him with concern.  
The boy shakes his head. "I don't think I did. My head doesn't hurt, it's mostly my neck that burns really bad."  
Isurus' eyes fly back to the boy's left shoulder, where a dirty piece of clothing rests upon bloody skin. How irresponsible of him, making this boy stand there and talk despite his obvious pain! "Ah, yes, my apologies. We shall see about those matters another time. Would you mind if we first tended to your wound?"  
"I don't mind," answers the boy.   
"Very well then," says Isurus. "Please, follow me. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask for it."

The boy follows him to his study and Isurus tells him to sit down on the bench near the wall after closing the door behind the both of them. Then he goes to sit next to the boy and gestures towards the fabric slung over the boy's neck. "Could you remove this?"  
The boy nods and pulls the cloth away with a pained expression. Isurus kneels close to him and studies the skin there. It seems to have been torn apart, most likely due to an animal bite, and it looks rather fresh. The pattern of the wound ressembles teeth marks, with a gash that is jagged and unclean and caked with drying blood, and although it seems to be several hours old, the poor boy hasn't stopped bleeding. Isurus tsks, although this fact does not come as a surprise considering the size and depth of the wound. The man stands up from the bench and pulls open a nearby drawer to grab some medical supplies.  
"It seems you were bitten. Were you?"  
"...I don't know about that either."  
Isurus crushes three sprigs in a bowl and adds a few drops of disinfectant from a white vial, then dabs the mixture on a soft sponge and walks back to the boy.  
"It looks like you were bitten not long ago. Your bruises, however, seem to be days old. Do you really have no idea what happened?"  
"No," answers the boy. "I'm sorry... I really don't know."  
"Do not apologize. I just want to make sure I have all the information I can get."  
Isurus sets to tidying the wound and presses the sponge to the boy's skin, who sucks in a breath at the sting. Strangely, despite how dirty it is, the bite mark isn't as infected as the man expected it to be. He thought it would be at least a bit puffy and of a shiny red, but it is not. It is simply ripped skin, looking the way skin does just after being torn, before the inflammation sets in. It is all the more intriguing considering that it might have been caused by a wild animal, vector of so many diseases ; and yet the boy seems healthy enough. Moreover, the bite mark reminds Isurus of something, and it is no wild animal.  
"Say," ventures the man as he removes the pink-tinged sponge from the boy's skin. "Would you happen to have any memories of a blue-eyed man?"  
"What?" The boy seems genuinely taken aback by his sudden question, his eyes wide with confusion. "...I don't think so."  
"Never mind then. It is not important."  
The boy nods lightly, so as not to pain himself any further, and doesn't insist.  
Isurus doesn't speak again until he's fully disinfected both the wound on the boy's neck and the scrapings.  
"There, now go take a bath and then I shall see if that neck wound needs any other kind of care before bandaging it."  
"Thank you," says the boy with a small grateful smile before hopping down from the bench.  
"Sphyrna will show you where the bathroom is," adds Isurus.  
Just as the man speaks those words, the little girl appears in the doorway and beckons the boy to follow her. Isurus smiles at the boy when he looks back at him with an unsure expression, and encourages him to go after his niece with a wave of his hand. The boy turns around and leaves the study, and Isurus goes to wash the bloodied sponge in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> This story is probably going to be slow, starts off pretty quiet and gets angsty later on. So if you choose to, thanks for sticking with me! Please don't hesitate to leave me a comment, those are always very nice to read, and if you have anything to criticize then go ahead. I'm always game for improvement.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. The Names

Triakis follows the little girl in front of him up a flight of stairs and notices that she and the boy from earlier look a little bit alike. Could the two of them and the kind man be family? They all have the same dark skin and clear eyes. He follows the little girl to the bathroom, wondering how he even ended up here in the first place. He doesn't recall coming to this town before.

Despite the alarming memory loss he seems to be suffering from, he's a bit comforted when he realizes that some memories of his early childhood have remained. He thinks he remembers playing with shapes, maybe flowers. He remembers that there was a cat, and a dog that he liked to play with. Before waking up in this area, he thinks he used to be in a place that didn't look anything alike. It was a lot calmer and greener. He remembers seeing caravans, and tents, and children running and weaving around adults that sat on carpets in the grass. Nothing like this place, and besides, neither the name of this town, Holsith, nor of that city, Cidell, are ringing any bells. He has no idea how he got here and where he is. More importantly, although he remembers the green place, he can't seem to remember who the people were. He knows they were there, children and adults, but their faces are obscured by an unnaturally dark veil. He can't remember what the voices sounded like, either.

The girl taps him on the shoulder and he snaps out of his musings, looking up at her. Their gazes lock for the first time, and her eyes twitch when it happens, but then she smiles at him.  
"Here you go. You can wash yourself now," she says while opening the bathroom's door. "If you need anything, give us a call. I left you a towel and some clothes, they should fit you."  
He nods and smiles shyly at her: "Thank you."  
"No problem," she chirps, then spins around and leaves.  
He silently gazes at her back for a bit before pushing the door open and entering the bathroom. As soon as the door closes behind him, the boy swiftly sheds off his clothes, climbs over the side of the tub and starts splashing water over himself, eager to get clean. He knows full well he probably looks like a mess and that he undoubtedly smells like one as well, judging from the blue-eyed boy's reaction earlier. Carcha, if he remembers correctly. The blonde boy did not seem very welcoming, and that certainly isn't going to change even if he washes himself. 

As he starts rubbing soap on his dirt-covered skin, he discovers a bruise on his body, and then another one, and Carcha flies right out of his head. There are a lot on his knees, under the raw skin exposed by his fall on the road earlier, and he can feel an ache in his back, but those don't matter quite as much as the ones he studies with utmost care and apprehension: the uneven bruises circling his wrists and the spots on his waist. He doesn't know how he got those, but he has a bad feeling about them. It really bugs him that he can't match memories to each bruise, and he prefers not to think about it too much. He has the feeling he shouldn't.

When he steps out of the bath, wrapping himself in the towel that the girl left for him, he doesn't see at first that there's a mirror there. He only notices it when he turns around and a shadow moves in front of him. His heart skips a beat at first, but he quickly unfreezes from his startled position when he realizes that he just got scared by his own reflection. He slowly breathes out, feeling slightly embarrassed by his own jittery reaction.

A thought crosses his mind.  
_What do I look like?_

He hasn't wondered until now, because he hasn't thought about it at all. He thought he knew what his physical appearance was like, but now the harder he tries to remember, the least he does. He hesitantly steps closer to the mirror, still holding the towel to his chest. He stops a few centimeters away from it, trying to see the face hidden behind the fog accumulated on the mirror's surface, but it's too blurry to see very well. He extends his hand towards the opaque surface, and slowly flattens it against the cold glass. Then he drags his hand across the mirror, wiping away the mist, and he sees his eyes widen at their own reflection.

Red eyes.

He stumbles back in fright, his heart hammering away in his ribcage, and gulps. No way. Eyes aren't supposed to be that color, are they? He draws close to the mirror once again, cautiously peering into the rectangle of clear glass.

The red irises stare right back at him.

He swallows again, and turns his head a little bit to the left. The reddish hue of his eyes changes depending on the light's angle, sometime pink and sometimes red. The thick white lashes lining his eyes seem to soften the sharpness of their color, but it's still a bit scary.

His head straightens back in its initial position and he wipes more fog away, taking in the features of his face, of his body. His face also has bruises, especially his cheeks. The tips of his tangled black hair reach a bit below his ears, dripping wet with water, and now he can see how nasty the neck wound really is. It's the color of rusty bricks, with a jagged outline, and it spreads from the base of his neck to approximately five centimeters under his ear.

_Nasty animal that must've been._

It looks pretty serious. How did he survive a run-in with a wild beast? The boy is briefly reminded of Isurus' question about a blue-eyed man, and wonders why he wanted to know that in particular.  
He shakes his head and stares at his reflection a bit more. The blonde boy from before had looked a lot stronger than him. Even the girl seemed less skinny than him. He frowns and turns his back to the mirror, drying himself up.

Once he's finished putting on new clothes, he walks out of the bathroom and down the stairs to seek out Isurus. As he steps up to the study, he feels a gaze on his back. He glances over his shoulder and jolts when his eyes meet those of a surly boy sitting in the wide room across from the study. The blonde boy narrows his eyes at him, and he quickly looks away, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn't hear the boy move, but he hastily knocks on the door, in case the blonde decides to come close. He hears Isurus' voice from withing telling him to come in, so he does and quickly closes the door behind him, nearly breathing a sigh of relief from getting out of the other boy's sight. 

Isurus looks up at him from his desk and asks him what is wrong, but he says it's nothing. The man sets to desinfecting the wound again, and this time he spreads a strange purple-colored salve over the boy's damaged skin before finally bandaging it. Then he checks the bruises around his wrists, chest, waist, knees and ankles, and rubs a small ball of what feels like wet rubber over the red, purple and yellow spots. It leaves a thin shiny film behind, like snail slime, and spreads a cool feeling over the boy's aching skin. The boy watches the man's movements curiously, impressed by how easily he picks the right supplies amongst the piles and piles of herbs and vials and pieces gathered in the drawers.  
Isurus puts away all the things he used and then gestures to the boy. "You can stand up now. We will eat soon, would you care for some food?"  
The boy suddenly realizes how extremely hungry he is and nods. The man smiles at him and asks him to follow him to the kitchen, where they find the little girl making lunch.

They end up all sitting at the table a while later. The blonde boy has joined them as well, but his expression is just as bitter as earlier.  
"Why's he even still here?" grumbles Carcha, glaring at the other boy across the table.  
Isurus hands the salad bowl to Sphyrna, speaking calmly: "Because he needs to eat."  
The girl takes it from the man's hands and rolls her eyes at Carcha, who ignores her.  
"Well then can't he eat somewhere else?"  
" _Can't he eat somewhere else?_ " mimicks Sphyrna in a high-pitched voice. She sticks her fork in a quarter of boiled egg and chomps down on it, speaking with her mouth full. "Grow up, you loser."  
"That's rich, coming from a shortie," retorts the older boy with a glare.  
Isurus looks over at the black-haired boy sitting next to him, who seems to be hiding behind his food. He leans closer to him and smiles: "As I told you already, don't mind him."  
"You sure you don't wanna pee all over the place to make sure this is your territory?" mocks Sphyrna, the corners of her mouth drawn up in a smirk.  
"Shut up," growls Carcha.  
"Sphyrna, stop trying to annoy your brother," admonishes Isurus. "Look, why don't you two introduce yourselves properly to him?"  
"Why, are you planning on letting him stay longer?" frowns the blue-eyed boy. "No."  
"Carcha, stop being so unpleasant," Isurus chastised him. "I thought I taught you manners long ago."  
"I don't like intruders," he growled at the red-eyed boy, who shrunk even further in his own seat.  
"Calm down," ordered his uncle.  
Carcha's blue gaze rebelliously clashes with the man's. "You're not my father."  
Isurus' eyes narrow and his voice grows stern. "No, but I am your uncle and as such, you shall obey me. Understood?"  
Carcha glares at his plate and doesn't insist.

Isurus sighs and tries to wave the tense atmosphere away. "Sphyrna, why don't you go first."  
The girl smiles brightly at the man and then directs her attention to the boy. "So, you already know my name's Sphyrna by now. I'm ten years old, and I like magic and I really like candy, so if you ever want to give me anything give me that."  
"No one wants to give the most annoying person in the world anything," interjects the other under his breath.  
"Remember who got the most presents on their birthday?" retorts the little girl.  
"Yeah, yeah," mumbles Carcha before he slides even further into his seat with a sullen expression, ignoring the expectant look Isurus is giving him. After a while of awkward silence, he grumbles: "I'm not introducing myself."

"Are you pouting?" grins Sphyrna. "What a baby!"  
Isurus smiles as well. "It's true that you are being a bit immature, Carcha."  
"Okay, fine!" spits Carcha. He straightens and glares at the other boy, who has gone back to staring at his plate with pronounced interest. "Look at me when I'm talking!"  
The red-eyed boy looks up shyly, but his meek demeanor doesn't deter the blonde from speaking in the same loud voice and shooting daggers with his eyes. "I'm Carcha, thirteen, and I like it when there aren't strangers in my house."  
Sphyrna rolls her eyes again. "Stop being so passive-mostly-agressive, Ka, no one cares."  
"Indeed," Isurus agrees with the girl in a chuckle, before turning to the boy next to him. "It is your turn now."  
The boy looks up at him. "But, I don't..."  
The man smiles at him. "Do not worry. Just tell them, there is no need to be afraid."

The boy looks back at the other children. Sphyrna is blatantly curious, and Carcha is... just grumpy.  
He takes a deep breath. "I'm eleven, I..."  
He stops, his heart skipping a beat. He was about to say 'I think', but suddenly it doesn't seem like a good idea. What if they think he's stupid for forgetting something so important? And the fact that he can't even remember his own name - they'll think he's dumb for sure! It sounds so ridiculous...  
His heart is thumping louder, and he's sure everyone can hear it. He doesn't want them to know. He doesn't want to tell that he's lost his memory. He doesn't want to tell the truth. It scares him to say it out loud, because then it would become a reality, and he doesn't want it to be real. He wants to be wrong about losing his memory. What if he never, ever gets it back? What then? How can he be normal without a past? Without a name?  
"Are you all right?"  
Isurus' voice jolts the boy back to the present, and his troubled gaze rests on the man's face. Then he looks back down.  
"I, um... I need to..."  
He doesn't finish his sentence and gets off his chair, hurrying out of the room. 

"What crawled up his ass?" says Carcha with a raised eyebrow.  
"Language, Carcha," snaps Isurus. The boy shuts up, while Sphyrna casts a concerned glance at her uncle. "Should I go see what he's up to, Isu?"  
The man shakes his head. "No, I shall go see what is wrong wth him. You two," he points warningly at them, "behave."  
He then gets up from his seat and walks out of the kitchen, leaving the puzzled children behind.  
_

Isurus looks around the first floor for the red-eyed boy, but there is no sign of him. He starts climbing up the stairs, and when he reaches the stair landing, he hears quiet sobbing emanating from the bathroom. The man carefully walks up to the closed door, and softly raps on the door. "It is me. What is the matter, little one?"  
The sobbing stops, but the child doesn't answer.  
"I am right here if you desire to talk. The others are worried about you as well."  
The door opens slightly and the boy's pale face appears behind the crack. His cheeks are wet, and his voice is shaken by hiccups. "I don't... know what to do..."  
"What about?" asks Isurus, kneeling down to talk with the boy.  
"I don't... want others to know... that I can't remember anything."  
"It is fine, they would not think anything bad about it. They are good children." He pauses. "Although Carcha is a bit hard-headed."  
"But I don't even know my own name!" whispers the boy frantically, and tears well up in his eyes. "What am I going to do about it? What am I supposed to do? I don't... remember my family, I don't remember who they are, I... I can't remember!"  
Isurus gently pushes the door open and the boy steps back. The man comes into the room and closes the door behind him, then kneels down again. "It can stay between us if you want it so, that should not be a problem. I shan't say anything to anyone. However, I need to know : have you somewhere to return to?"  
"No, that's what I've been saying," says the boy in panicked, hushed tones. "I don't remember where I lived! The only things I remember are my memories when I was a baby, maybe when I was four or five, and that's all! Everything else is gone!"  
"Calm down, little one, everything shall be fine. We will find a way to solve your predicament," says Isurus in a reassuring voice. "Consequently, you have no idea where you come from, nor do you have any idea as to where you could go?"  
"No," answers the boy as he wipes his tears away with the heel of his hand. "I don't, I have nothing."

Isurus sits back, holding his chin in his hand. He could take the boy in, he has the means to do it and besides, he doesn't want to leave this lost child alone in a place he doesn't know. However, it could turn out to be quite the gamble to follow through with the idea. He has his theories about the nature of the boy's amnesia and what his red eyes could be hiding. Most of all, what nags him is the trance the boy was in before Isurus snapped him out of it.  
"Tell me..." starts the man. The boy's head jerks up. "What did you see back there? Back where I found you."  
The boy looks puzzled by his question. "What do you mean?"  
"The town, the well... Was it any different before you met me?"  
The boy's brow furrows slightly when he thinks. "Well, I'm not sure... I feel like... Maybe, I had a dream."  
"A dream?"  
"Yes," nods the boy.  
"What happened in that dream?"  
The boy's brow creases even more, and it looks like he's concentrating. "I... I can't really remember what it was like. Only... there was a feeling of emptiness. I think."  
"I see," says Isurus, although he does not. "Was I the one to wake you up, perhaps? You seemed surprised when I spoke to you."  
"Yes... I think." The boy looks at Isurus again. "I'm sorry, I don't remember a lot about it."

Isurus nods slowly and bows his head in thought. This could be an interesting wager, even if the eye color and the amnesia don't match up to his theories. Then he looks at the boy.  
"Listen, little one, I shall allow you to stay here until you remember where you need to return."  
The boy's eyes widen. "Really?"  
"Yes," answers Isurus with a kind smile.  
"But what if I..." The boy swallows nervously. "What if I don't remember?"  
"That matter is of meager importance. I am willing to let you stay as long as you need to."  
Relief spreads across the boy's features. "Thank you," he simply says.  
"Not at all," answers Isurus.  
The boy thinks to himself, then he speaks again. "What do I have to do in exchange?"  
Isurus smiles and ruffles the boy's black hair. "Smart thinking. I like that. Rule number 1: never take anything for granted. If you want to stay, you have to work."  
"Work? What kind of work?" asks the boy.  
"Sphyrna and Carcha will explain. It is not difficult work, but it still helps, like going to get groceries, or cleaning the house, or helping neighbours in exchange for favours or money."  
The boy nods, and asks: "You said rule number 1. What are the other rules?"  
"You shall see with the others. They will take the time to explain."  
"All right, but..."  
"But?"  
The boy is wearing that troubled expression on his face again. "What about my name? I need a name..."  
Isurus nods in understanding. "Of course. We can try and find one. Have you absolutely no recollection of what your name could have been?"  
"No..."  
"I see. Then, as a starting point, there is a tradition in our family that wills our names to be derivatives of a certain species. That is what was decided for both Sphyrna and Carcha. Would you like to be part of this family?"  
The boy seems taken aback. "Part of your family...? I'm fine with anything, as long as I have a name. It doesn't have to follow your tradition." He pauses, and shifts uneasily, lowering his head. "I don't think they would like me as their brother."  
Isurus rests a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Listen, little one, both Carcha and Sphyrna have a good heart. They may hide it deep down, but you need not be afraid of them. It will undoubtedly take a bit of time for them to adjust to the existence of a third child in their home, especially for Carcha ; but I can assure you that in the end, they will see that you are just as them. You simply need a home."

The boy looks up at him. There is hope, and doubt, and fright in his red eyes. He seems so lost and small in that moment, that Isurus is suddenly reminded of the look the siblings harboured years ago as they stood at his doorstep. Then the memory scatters, and he focuses on the matter at hand.

"I do not wish to let you go. Understand that if you leave on your own, troubles await you. Holsith is a small town, that I will not refute ; but even the smallest of towns has its fair share of danger. Truly, what Carcha or Sphyrna might say and do should not concern you quite as much as your safety and well-being. Do you understand what it is I am saying?"  
The boy nods slowly, wordlessly.  
"Now, I have an idea of a name that follows our family's tradition. Does Triakis sound like a nice name?"  
The boy's shoulders relax noticeably under Isurus' hand and relief spreads across his face upon finally being named. "Yes," answers the boy hastily. "Yes, it does sound like a nice name."  
"Then, Triakis," says Isurus in a calm and gentle voice. "This is your new home for as long as you need it."  
"Thank you." Triakis gazes at him gratefully, although apprehension lingers in his red eyes.  
"Think nothing of it," grunts Isurus as he stands up. Then he holds out his hand for the boy to take. "Come along now. Let us finish dinner with the others."  
The boy shyly reaches out and Isurus wraps his hand around the boy's smaller one to lead him out of the bathroom. Then he hears Triakis speak again, in his soft, timid voice.  
"What kind of species are we named after?" asks the boy.  
Isurus looks down at him. "And curious, too. I appreciate curiosity in sharp minds." He looks ahead and answers : "We are named after sharks."  
"Sharks? But why?" asks the boy.  
Isurus smiles at him. "You shall see when you get older."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	3. The Rules

When the man and the boy return to the kitchen, the siblings stop whispering to each other and straighten in their seats, studying the red-eyed boy with renewed interest. Of course, Sphyrna is the one to ask.  
"What happened?"  
Isurus doesn't have the time to answer, the red-eyed boy speaks first. "My stomach hurt."  
Carcha raises an eyebrow. "You needed our uncle to go to the bathroom?"  
"... I couldn't find it."  
Carcha leans back in his chair. "Somehow I'm not buying that."  
In a blur, Sphyrna elbows him in the ribs.  
"Ow! What'd you do that for?" yelps Carcha angrily.  
She harrumphs and rests her chin on her hand. "You're an idiot."

Once everyone is seated at the table once more, Isurus nods at the red-eyed boy in encouragment.  
"Let us try again, shall we?"  
The boy purses his lips, and gazes at the two others, hesitating shortly before he starts saying: "I'm eleven. My name is Triakis, and-"  
In the split second that follows, Sphyrna raises an eyebrow and Carcha violently pushes his chair back. It falls to the ground with a loud thunk as he stands and spits: "Bullshit!"  
Triakis shrinks in his seat at the sudden outburst, his red eyes wide with confusion. Isurus is a bit taken aback too, at first, but he quickly regains control of himself. He knew that Sphyrna and Carcha were made aware of the tradition, but he hadn't expected them both to know every shark species. He really had to stop underestimating the siblings.  
"It is, Carcha," he intervenes. "It is his real name."  
Carcha narrows his eyes at the boy. "It's not. I can tell. He's lying."  
The red-eyed boy squirms uneasily in his seat and looks down at his plate, unable to protest.  
Isurus remains calm. "It is his real name. That is the truth."  
"Stop fucking lying, I know you're-"

Suddenly Isuru's hand smacks against the table, the cutlery clattering around the table with the violence of the impact. Carcha jumps, Sphyrna freezes, and Triakis flinches.  
Isurus is staring at Carcha dead in the eye, and his voice is as serious as his gaze. "His name is Triakis. We shall not discuss the matter any further. Do you understand?"  
Carcha nods quickly, but that's not enough for Isurus.  
"I want you to say that you understand. Do you understand?"  
"Yes, uncle. I understand."  
Isurus' hand doesn't budge. "As of today, Triakis is part of this household, and he is entitled to the same right and obligations as you two. Do you have any complaints?"  
Both siblings shake their head in mute compliance.  
"Good." The man withdraws his hand from the table and leans back in his seat. "I apologize for frightening you, all of you, but you need to understand one thing: I do not tolerate such behaviour. You know that, Carcha. I will not see that kind of language, or disrespect, in my home."  
Carcha sits back down and looks away. "Yes. I understand, Isu, I'm sorry."  
"I am not the one you should be apologizing to, Carcha."  
The boy's blue eyes swivel to Triakis. He seems to struggle with himself for a bit, but he swallows his pride and says: "Sorry... Triakis."  
The red-eyed boy attempts to smile at the boy through his obvious nervosity. "It's fine... I'm sorry too."  
Sphyrna frowns. "What for? Don't apologize, especially when he's been such a dick to you!"  
Her brother glares at her and Isurus tries to hide a smile.  
Triakis shakes his head. "I'm sorry for barging in your home like this. Carcha, you're right, I'm an intruder. I wish it wasn't this way, but I... I just hope I'll become more than an intruder for you."  
Isurus stares at the boy in silence, and he quickly notices that the two siblings are also quiet. Triakis' words were surprisingly wise for an eleven year old. The boy starts squirming in his seat, embarrassed by the silence in the room, not knowing what he did to cause such an awkward atmosphere. Fortunately, Sphyrna breaks the weird tension in the room once again.  
"Let's just eat, how about it?"

They soon finish their lunch and Isurus heads back to his study, letting them clean up the kitchen on their own. Once they accomplish the task, the three children assemble in the living room to talk without Isurus.  
"So, what did Isurus tell you when he took you in?" asks Sphyrna. Her brother is perched on the couch with an indifferent air, and both her and Triakis are sitting on the floor.  
The boy tilts his head. "You mean when he said it was all right for me to stay?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, he told me there were rules. He said you would explain."  
"Why do we always have to do everything," complains Carcha.  
Sphyrna turns around. "If you want to be such a butt then you can get out. I can tell him the rules on my own, you know."  
The blonde boy shuts his mouth and crosses his arms, but he doesn't move from his position.  
His sister goes back to talking with the boy. "So, rule number 1 is to never take anything for granted."  
"He told me about that. We have to work, like helping with the housework and stuff."  
"Yup, that's it. It's so that he can work while we're occupied, and that way it also helps him with the maintenance of the house."  
"Yeah, so that way he doesn't have to do shit while we work our asses off."  
"Ka, shut up."  
The blonde boy sinks further in the couch's pillows.  
"Wait," says Triakis. "What work does Isurus do?"  
Sphyrna shrugs. "We don't really know. He told us we'd know when we grew up."  
"Like the shark stuff?"  
Carcha straightens. "How'd you know about that?"  
Triakis looks at him. "Well, didn't he tell all of us?"  
Carcha frowns. "Smartass."

Sphyrna rolls her eyes. "Anyways yes, Triakis, like the shark stuff. There are a lot of things we aren't allowed to know before we're old enough. Until then, rule number 2: don't skip school. Our uncle wants us to go to school as much as we can to be 'cultivated' and to 'sharpen our minds'," says the girl while doing the quote marks with her fingers.  
"Whatever that means," adds her brother. She nods in agreement.  
"But how am I supposed to go to school? I don't-" He stops himself again. That was a close one. He was going to say he didn't remember going to school. He probably went, too, he does know how to read. And write. He's sure of it. But he doesn't remember what it was like. He just has a vague idea of the notion.  
The others are still staring at him, so he stutters: "I-I didn't go to school."  
Carcha raises the eyebrow. "You're kidding."  
"I'm not."  
"It's fine," says Sphyrna. "We'll just sign you up. School around here is pretty lax. Rule number 3: don't be gratuitously mean to others. This one was made for Carcha because he's a moron."  
"Hey!"  
"Witty comebacks aren't his thing either, you probably noticed," she grins.  
Triakis is starting to understand why Carcha called her the most annoying person ever, but then again he likes how smart Sphyrna is.  
"Rule number 4: unless there is an emergency, the study is off-limits. It's basically Isurus' domain, he sleeps there, works there, eats there when we're not there to eat with him. You were allowed in there earlier because that's where he keeps the medical supplies, other than that we never go inside. It's also something we'll understand when we're older, supposedly we'll be allowed in there when the time comes."  
"I see," Triakis nods again.  
Carcha rolls over on the couch. "Last rule: always be in good shape. It means you gotta be good at sports, like me, and have a good health all the time. No sloppy eating or sleeping, you gotta be ticking like a clock."  
"All right," says Triakis. He's not sure he can be as good as Carcha considering his state, but he'll definitely try.

"Say, Triakis..." Sphyrna leans in closer, scrutinizing his face. "How come you're just going along with all of this? Don't you have a home you came from, or a family? You're fine with just living here, no questions asked?"  
Triakis leans back and looks away. "I guess so."  
Carcha gets off the couch, marches over to the other two and sits down next to his sister. "I still find it too weird. You should know one thing, Triakis. About me. I said it before, I don't like intruders. I'm not like my sister here, or Isurus, I don't trust easy. So even if you look like you've been really messed up, even if you look hurt, if you try anything funny you're dead."  
Triakis wants to answer that he won't try anything funny at all, but suddenly he can't get any words out. The boy's icy eyes send shivers through his body as they silently bore into him. Cold permeates his mind, paralyzing him, robbing him of movement. Triakis is breathless and trapped in those eyes like a tiny gnat in a spider's web.  
Sphyrna stands up and slaps the front of her brother's face with the flat of her opened hand, jolting him out of their staring competition, although both of them know there wasn't much competition to begin with.  
"What are you doing?" she asks her brother with a cross expression.  
"I'm just making sure."  
"You know you shouldn't do that when Isu's not around." She stares at him seriously. "Your gaze."  
He looks away. "I tell you, I just wanted to make sure. It's the passive one, anyway, there's no risk."  
"Did you get a good look at him? It's not like he's in a state to pull off anything."

Carcha looks down at Triakis. The dark-haired boy flinches and averts his gaze.  
He kneels in front of Triakis with a serious expression. "Look, I'm just letting you know. No need to be so scared. Besides, I can see you're not the type to be threatening."  
Triakis stares at the floor, unable to look at the boy. He's ashamed by his behaviour, he knows he should fight back a bit more, but the fact is, he's scared. He doesn't know why, but he's terrified. Words echo through his mind, whispers from another time, seeping in through the deepest crevices of his mind.  
_In fact, you're pretty submissive, huh_.  
He's so terrified he can't move.

The little girl and her brother wait for the other to answer, but when he doesn't react they start feeling that there's something off about the boy.  
"Hey, are you all right?" Sphyrna asks, a bit worried by Triakis' sudden frozen state. When the boy remains unresponsive, she pushes her brother away and angrily asks: "Did you do this, Carcha?"  
However, her brother seems as confused as she is. "I didn't do that! He shouldn't be this scared."  
Suddenly, both siblings hear the boy whimper and they look at him, noticing the way he's holding his head. Sphyrna's eyes widen when the whimpers turn to pained grunts and she pushes her brother towards the study. "Go get Isu, quick!"  
Carcha nods and hastily gets back on his feet, running towards his uncle's room.  
Sphyrna edges closer to the boy curling up on the floor, cautiously reaching out to him. "Triakis? Can you hear me?"  
"Get away from me!" screams Triakis, and she jerks back.  
"Triakis, what's happening? What's the matter?" she asks, frightened by the boy's sudden change of behaviour.

The boy just groans and tightens his hands around his head, and soon she hears Isurus bounding down the hall with her brother by his side. The man kneels next to the agonizing boy, but Triakis jerks away from him, collapsing on the floor.  
"Get away!" he shrieks forcefully, his red eyes wide and panicked.  
Isurus looks at Sphyrna with a worried expression and asks: "What happened?"  
"Carcha used his gaze and now Triakis won't let anyone get close to him," answers the little girl.  
"What? It's not my fault!" exclaims her brother indignantly, but when Isurus turns around to look at him, the look in his uncle's eyes makes his face go slack.  
"You did what?" the man asks in a menacing voice, and Carcha knows he's in trouble.  
"I just wanted to-"  
"I do not care what you intended to do, Carcha, the fact is Triakis is falling apart on the floor because of you! Didn't you think that in his state, he needed comfort, not threats? I cannot believe you did this, even less that you tried it without my supervision," says his uncle in a frustrated and disappointed tone, and it hurts Carcha more than Isurus' anger.  
"I'm-"  
"Do not apologize, Carcha, I do not care for apologies. Triakis is the one you will apologize to. Again." Isurus then leans closer to the boy curled and shaking on the ground. "Triakis, listen to me. It is only me, Isurus. I do not want to harm you. Tell me, what is the matter?"  
The boy is muttering something under his breath with terrified and unseeing eyes, and the man has to sharpen his hearing to understand. His words pour out at a stuttering pace, in a thready, frightened voice: "Let me go, please, I did nothing wrong, let me go, please, I did nothing wrong, let me go, please...."  
Isurus understands right then that the boy is stuck in his mind. He turns back to the children behind him.  
"One of you, get me the sonnuelia, drawer two left three bottom, be careful not to smell it. Make it quick!"  
Carcha is the first to react since he is already standing up, and he runs back to the study.  
"Isu, what's happening?" asks Sphyrna worriedly.  
Her uncle watches the delirious boy with concern etched all over his face. "He is reliving something. I do not know what it is."  
"It looks painful," says the little girl. Her uncle nods silently, but Sphyrna isn't watching the man. Her wide eyes are fixated on Triakis' suffering expression, on the way his rigid fingers are digging into his scalp, his taut body and clenched jaw showing her agony that makes her memories wriggle in a way she'd rather ignore.  
Sphyrna scoots back across the floor and turns around to avoid seeing the boy's pain. Isurus notices her move away and simply says in a soothing voice: "Everything is alright, Sphyrna. He will be fine once he sleeps."

Soon Carcha returns, holding the plant in his hand, and Isurus quickly snatches it away to place it in front of the boy's face. It doesn't take long for it to soothe his nerves, his groaning turning into soft whimpers and gradually dying down, his body slowly relaxing until his eyes slide shut and he falls asleep completely. Isurus lifts the boy off the ground and when he sets him down on the couch, Triakis' head lolls to the side. The man sees a few tears silently run down the side of the boy's pale and tired face, and he wipes them away with the back of his fingers.  
Isurus then turns to Carcha, staring at him sternly. "Tell me exactly what you did."  
The boy squirms where he stands. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I swear, I-"  
"Carcha. Now."  
The boy hangs his head, shame sweeping over him at the sound of his uncle's commanding voice. "I just tried to see if he was dangerous."  
Isurus frowns. "You were not trying to scare him, were you?"  
"No, I only used the passive gaze!" cries the boy. "I don't know why he freaked out like that, I didn't... I didn't mean for that to happen."  
Isurus closes his eyes. His theories about the red-eyed boy are getting messier and messier, and there is no doubt he will need to sort them out later.  
He opens his eyes again. "Do you have any idea when he started panicking? Do you know if it started before, during or when you were done using it?"  
Carcha shakes his head, but Sphyrna speaks up. "I think it was after. I'm not sure, though, I could be wrong."  
Isurus nods, then asks Carcha: "What did you see when you did it? Was there anything of note?"  
"No. Not really, I mean I don't think."  
"Whatever do you mean, you don't think?"  
The boy bites his lip. "Well, it was a bit strange, but overall he seemed to be a pacifist."  
"Overall?"  
"I can't explain it... You'd have to do it yourself to understand. I'm not trying to piss you off," adds the boy hurriedly, "I really can't explain it."  
Isurus tsks. "I cannot do that. Not if Triakis reacts like this everytime."

Then they hear Triakis shift among the pillows on the couch and Isurus kneels next to the waking boy. "Triakis?"  
The boy blinks once, twice. Then his head turns to the man. "What happened?"  
"What do you remember?"  
"Um..." Triakis frowns. "I was talking with Sphyrna... and then... Carcha warned me about... He said he didn't trust me. And then I don't remember. Why, what happened?"  
Isurus purses his lips. It seems like the boy doesn't remember the reason of his panic, or even that he panicked at all.  
"You had a momentary loss of consciousness. I will ask of you to stay here and lie down for a while, and we shall leave you to your rest."  
"I feel fine," says Triakis as he starts to sit up. "I don't know why this happened, but I feel pretty normal."  
Isurus stops him in his tracks with a gentle touch on the shoulder. The boy looks up at him questioningly, and the man shakes his head. "Lie down, Triakis. If only for a moment."  
Triakis stares at him and then wordlessly complies. Isurus helps him settle on the couch and grabs the rug draped over the couch to pull it over the boy's body. Then the man straightens and grabs both of the siblings by the shoulders, leading them out of the room and across the hall to his study.

"Sit down," he orders, gesturing towards the bench.  
The children both have a feeling that this can't be good and do as they are told. Their uncle stands in front of them with a serious expression, holding his chin in his hand. He seems to be lost in thought, until he looks at them and finally speaks.  
"Listen, both of you... Do not mention this to him."  
"How come?" asks Sphyrna. "I want to know what made him lose it, I'm worried."  
"No, you are just being a sly little fox, Sphyrna, I know you. I may be older than you, but I am not blind yet, and I keep telling you: you should not be digging for others' weaknesses this way."  
The girl goes silent and doesn't protest.  
"And you, Carcha. Do not try the gaze on him again, understood? In fact, the same goes for you, Sphyrna, though you haven't mastered it yet. When you do, heed my word and do not try it on Triakis."  
Carcha nods wordlessly, as does his sister.  
"He will not remember any of it, the sonnuelia is partially to blame," lies Isurus. "But he would most certainly be very uneasy if we told him that he panicked in front of all of us."  
"We understand," says Carcha. "Then that means we can't ask him why he reacted that way, is that it?"  
"Indeed, we cannot."  
"Fine, but..." The boy stares at the man with a cold expression. "Isu, you can't expect us to be fine with this... guy living here, just because you got angry with us."  
Sphyrna shrugs next to him. "I don't mind."  
Carcha throws her a sideways glance then sighs. "Fine, then you can't expect me to be fine with this."  
Isurus nods. "I know, Carcha. I know you do not care for another household member, even less for someone that does not belong in the family. However, I believe that you will understand my choice in the future. Trust in me, please."  
"Yeah, yeah, I know you probably have a good reason for this. I told him anyways, he knows I've got my eye on him."  
"All right. All I ask of you two is to help him settle down in this new life of his."  
"Uncle," pipes up Sphyrna, "do you know where he comes from, at least?"  
"Yes," lies the man, "but it does not concern you, just as it does not concern me. His life belongs to him, and if he does not want to tell you anything about it, then so be it. Sphyrna, I know you are curious, and as proud of you as I am for wanting to understand everything, I have to warn you that too much curiosity is like poison to the intelligent mind. Do not go too far in your search for truth."  
"Yes, Uncle Isu," answers the girl with a sigh.  
"Then, if everything is clear, you can both go."

Sphyrna slides off the bench and walks out, but Isurus notices Carcha lingering behind. He steps closer to the boy and stands before of him. "What is it?"  
Carcha seems to be having an internal struggle, and he searches for words for a long time before he looks at his uncle with desperate eyes. "Uncle, I thought the passive gaze wasn't supposed to hurt anyone. I really didn't mean to hurt him, definitely not like that!"  
Isurus settles his hand on the boy's head. "Carcha... It is not entirely your fault. You could not have known. I know you did not do it on purpose, and I knew from the start that you had no evil intentions. Despite your foul mouth and your cold demeanor, I know you have a good heart and that you fear your abilities. Do not fear them. You know that your skills are better than most, it is a significant part of who you are. That is why you should embrace it. The more you will get used to it, the more powerful you will become."  
The boy lowers his head. "I know... It's just... I don't want to hurt people."  
Isurus ruffles the boy's short hair. "I understand. Trust me... You get used to it, when it's for the greater good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> This story is a bit of a challenge that I set for myself, as I try to write longer chapters than I usually do. Surprisingly, for now it's not that difficult! I'm feeling very inspired by Isurus, Carcha, Sphyrna, Triakis and this universe, so yay.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	4. The Tea

Triakis watches the three walk away from where he's lying, wondering what happened to him. He distinctly remembers talking about the rules with Sphyrna and then Carcha saying he didn't trust him, but between that moment and the next when he woke up here, he doesn't know. It's like a dark hole in his memories, like that interval of time got ripped out from his mind. He doesn't understand what's happening to him, but there must be a reason to why he keeps blacking out like this.  
He sits up slowly and looks around him. The living room looks especially wide when he's alone in it, and he doesn't quite like it. He doesn't feel like being alone right now, but he doesn't have the choice. The others must've gone without him to talk about his situation and it's likely he's not supposed to follow them. He just hopes Isurus won't tell them anything too compromising about him.

He wisely stays put and waits for their return while pondering about what he should do. He definitely needs to get Carcha to stop being so guarded around him, that's for sure. He doesn't want the boy to hate him, although Carcha's feelings don't seem to be without cause. Triakis just doesn't know what exactly he's done to deserve such feelings.  
Then there's Sphyrna, who sounds a lot more reasonable than her brother despite being the youngest. She doesn't have any kind of problem talking with him, obviously, and she's pretty and smart, but... Sometimes Triakis notices the way she stares at him, like he's got something on his face. He doesn't like it very much, because then he's reminded that he's different.  
Back at the town, he didn't see anyone with red eyes, and he thinks that might be the reason for her stares. After all, the siblings and their uncle all have blue eyes. He didn't pay too much attention to the crowd at the market place, but the eye color of the people there didn't strike him as extraordinary. He'll have to check later, but he's pretty sure red eyes aren't that common around here. Maybe he should just ask Isurus.  
Then again, the man seems busy, and the boy doesn't want to disturb him with questions he can answer on his own.

Triakis sighs wearily. He still feels tired from walking around earlier.  
_Walking around? Walking around where?_  
He frowns. He knows he walked a long time this morning, but he doesn't remember where or why. And... well, he does remember waking up in a bright and hot place, but when exactly he can't tell.  
_What's happening to my memory?_  
This is all freaking him out, and he slides off the couch and starts pacing around nervously. He has somewhere to rest for now, but what if he forgets what happened today? And then tomorrow? And the day after that?  
It frightens him enough to think that he's lost years of his life to a memory gap, that the shadows of people in his mind where people he used to know and probably love and that he can't even remember their face or their voice.

He hears light footsteps in the hall and he breaks off his line of thought just as Sphyrna enters the living room. She sees him standing near the fireplace and smiles.  
"Hey, Triakis. How are you feeling?"  
"I'm all right."  
She steps closer, studying his face. "You look a bit pale, I think you should lie down a little longer."  
"I do?" Triakis walks back to the couch and sits down.  
"Your lips are white."  
"Oh."  
"I can go grab something from the kitchen if you'd like," offers the girl.  
"No, I'm fine," answers Triakis. He thinks to himself for a bit, then asks: "Hey, Sphyrna, did I do something wrong?"  
She looks perplexed. "Is it because of Carcha?" Triakis nods, and she shrugs. "I told you, don't mind him, he's stupid. He gets all worked up for nothing."  
"Are you sure?" insists the boy.  
"Very," she answers with a smile. "Sometimes he acts like such a baby that I feel like I'm the older one."  
Triakis laughs softly. "I had that feeling."

Sphyrna is pleased to hear the sound of his laughter, even moreso because she was the one to make him laugh. Yes, her brother is an idiotic moron when it comes to interacting with new people, but if there's one thing she knows, it's that he doesn't do it on a whim. He just starts off guarded and makes his own idea of a person. The bad behaviour is just part of who he is.  
Unlike her, he's not scared of the boy's eye color and he doesn't care much for it. He doesn't get swayed easily by rumours, so he's more like their uncle in that regard.  
She, however, does care about Triakis' eyes. She's fascinated by the boy's vivid irises and pale pupils, yet at the same time it spooks her a little. There are so many stories of bad luck, omens and disaster concerning red eyes that she can't help but feel impressed. She knows she shouldn't stare, but the urge is too strong to resist.

She notices the boy has stopped smiling, and that she's staring at his face... again.  
"Oh, I'm sorry," she hastily apologizes.  
The boy looks away. "It's all right."  
He hesitates, then he looks at her again and asks: "Sphyrna... are red eyes strange?"  
She doesn't answer right away, a bit surprised by how forward the question is, and she's not sure how to go about this. She doesn't want to hurt his feelings, but she doesn't want to lie to him about it either.  
"Well... A little bit. It's unusual to see red eyes around here."  
"I thought so."  
Both of the children stay silent for a bit, looking at the floor, and then Sphyrna looks up and speaks again.  
"You know..." The boy's head turns to her, and she chews on her lip a bit before continuing. "I'm also going to give you a warning, but it's not about me or Carcha, it's about you. You should be careful when you go outside."  
The boy frowns. "Why?"  
She fidgets. "Some people are... kind of... afraid of red eyes."  
Triakis sighs. "I can understand that. I also think my eyes are a bit scary."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah."

Sphyrna is about to ask why when her uncle walks in, Carcha by his side.  
"Is everything alright?" asks the man while Carcha walks up to his sister.  
Triakis nods. "I'm fine. I guess I just passed out."  
The siblings exchange a gaze, but the boy doesn't notice.  
"You look a bit pale," observes Isurus, and Triakis smiles.  
"Sphyrna told me the same thing, but really, I feel fine."  
"Despite your best intents to reassure me, I would prefer avoiding another incident like this. Come with me," says the man as he beckons the boy over.

Triakis follows him obediently to the kitchen, leaving the siblings behind, and sits on one of the chairs while Isurus rummages through a wooden box until he finally pulls out a teabag. Then he turns around and asks the boy:  
"Do you like tea?"  
"Maybe," answers the boy.  
Isurus puts some water on the stove to boil and sits down in front of the boy while they wait.  
"So, Triakis. How are you holding up?"  
"...Actually, I feel a bit scared about what's going to happen to me."  
"How so?"  
The boy lowers his head in his hands, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. "I don't know if I'll still remember you tomorrow. I don't know when the next black-out will be. I don't know if tomorrow, I'll still be me. If in a week, I'll still be me. And it scares me."  
Isurus reaches across the round table and his hand settles on the boy's small shoulder. The latter looks up at him with tired and woeful eyes.  
"Triakis, I know it is difficult having amnesia, but I am sure the blackouts will settle down in a few days. We could go see a practicioner if that makes you feel any better. In all honesty, I do not believe you will forget us tomorrow or the day after that, and even later on."  
"You think?" murmurs the boy with a hopeful voice.  
"I am pretty sure," answers Isurus.  
The man then lets go of Triakis' shoulder and stands up to get a cup, drops a teabag in it and pours the hot water over it. Then he sits back down and hands the boy his cup.  
"It is a bit late to be giving this to you, but you really are a bit too pale to my taste. You might have a little trouble falling asleep, but if that is the case I shall let you sleep in tomorrow morning."  
"Thank you," says the boy, and lets the full cup warm his hands. "Isurus..."  
"Yes?"  
"Sphyrna told me people were scared of red eyes around here. Is it all right for me to go outside?"  
"Are you afraid of the others?"  
"I'm not really afraid of them, I'm afraid of frightening them."  
"Why?"  
"I don't know... Fear can turn people."  
Isurus stares at the boy, who gazes back at him. There's something about this boy, something the man thought he'd perceived earlier when Triakis had apologized to Carcha at lunch. Something wise. It's still slightly unsettling to see it in such a young boy.  
"Well, Triakis, that is up to you to decide."  
The boy nods and his gaze drops to his cup.

He sips his tea in silence, and both the man and the boy don't speak again until he is done drinking.  
Isurus picks up the empty cup and sets it down in the sink.  
"Did you like the tea?"  
He hears the boy climb down his chair. "I did. What was it?"  
"Apple, mint, cinnamon, and a touch of cirlang."  
"Huh."  
The boy's footsteps draw close to Isurus until the Triakis is by his side, watching him wash the cup. "What's cirlang?"  
"A plant which brings color to your face. You should be feeling less tired now."  
Isurus watches the boy, who after a short while looks up at him. "I do feel better."  
The man nods. "And your lips are back to their usual color."  
The boy smiles at him. "Thank you."  
"You are welcome."  
There is a short moment of silence.  
Then the boy asks: "Do you have only one kind of tea?"  
"Oh no, I have many many more. I like collectioning a variety of teas."  
"Are they all in the box over there?" Triakis inquires, pointing to the wooden box from which Isurus pulled out the teabag earlier.  
"No, there are a lot more in my study. But there are enough in that box for daily use."  
"Can I look inside?"  
"Of course."  
The boy steps away from Isurus and hefts himself up on the tip of his toes to reach for the box. He pulls it off the counter and carries it to the table, lowering it in front of him and climbing back on his chair. Isurus finishes wiping the cup dry and puts it away in one of the cupboards, then leans against the counter to watch the boy.

Triakis looks away from the opened box and lifts a teabag in his right hand, showing it to Isurus.  
"What's this kind of tea?"  
The man nears the table, taking the teabag from the boy's hand and looking at it closely.  
"Green tea. A classic."  
He barely has the time to put it back that Triakis already brandishes another teabag in front of him.  
"And this?"  
"Vanilla."  
"It smells good," says the boy as he takes it back. He slips the thin fabric of the teabag through his fingers and peers at it, trying to get a better look at the dry pieces inside. "Is this how vanilla looks like?"  
"No, not fresh vanilla. It's prettier when it's not dried up like this."  
"Oh." The boy lowers the teabag in the box, then pulls out a third one. "What about this?"  
"Are you planning to ask me about the whole box?" teases the man.  
Triakis looks up at him and tilts his head. "If you're all right with it, yes. Am I disturbing you?"  
"No, no," answers Isurus. "I'm not used to seeing children interested in my tea collection, that is all."  
"So... Can I keep asking you then?" says the boy with hopeful eyes.  
"Yes."  
Triakis gives him a small yet happy smile, and Isurus feels himself falling under this little boy's charm. If only his niece and nephew were this calm... Then again, if they were, life in this house would be a bit too quiet. The red-eyed boy extends his arm to hand him the teabag that he is still holding in his hand.  
"Then this one... what is it?"  
_

In the living room, Sphyrna and Carcha sit across from each other on the couch. They stay silent for a bit, still troubled by earlier's event. Nothing in Triakis' demeanor had indicated that it would happen, and they hadn't done anything very frightening. He'd just... freaked out, for apparently no real reason.

Sphyrna glanced at her brother. He looked guilty. Both of them were close, so Carcha never really tried to hide his feelings from her if they were alone. Even when he pretended to be jaded and cold when around others, she could tell the gist of what he was really thinking. Right now, he probably felt that his threats might've been what had set Triakis off. Sphyrna watched him and eventually, she spoke.  
"I don't think it's your fault, Ka."  
Her brother looks at her, doubt in his transparent blue eyes. "What else could it have been?"  
"He looked like he was hurting a lot, like he had a headache. How could you cause that? I mean, you can be pretty scary, but you've never caused headaches for anybody. Except Uncle," she jokes.  
Carcha smiles a bit and rolls his eyes. "Very funny."  
"Seriously, I think it's a lot more complicated than that. Sure, you spooked him, but you didn't touch him at all. Maybe he's sick or something," ventures the little girl. "I don't know."  
"He's pretty pale," agrees her brother. "His skin is so white compared to others."  
"And did you see the thing on his neck? It's really big and ugly. Don't you think it looks like some kind of bite?"  
Carcha nods. "That's why I don't like this. He's too weird, and I'm not even talking about the red eyes. He's not from around here, he's injured, Uncle won't tell us anything about him... This smells fishy."  
Sphyrna shrugs. "I don't mind giving him a chance. If Isu says it's fine, then I'm fine. He's nice, anyway."  
"I still don't like this," insists Carcha, folding his arms over his chest and looking in the direction Isurus and the new kid left.

They fall silent again.  
After a while, Carcha glances at his sister and notices the look on her face yet again. When he came in earlier to give the sonnuelia to his uncle, she was looking away from Triakis. He's pretty sure she's thinking of the same thing as him, even if she says she's fine with it.  
He speaks up. "You alright, Sphyrna?"  
She looks at him, her sky blue eyes darkening ever slightly. "... I'm fine. It's just..." She pauses, gathering her thoughts. "He seemed... in a lot of pain."  
Carcha leans forward, setting his hand on hers to comfort his sister. "It's all right, Sphyrna. Uncle's there to make him feel better."  
She nods and squeezes her brother's hand. "I know."

They stay like that for a while, comforting themselves with each other's presence.  
_

Triakis and Isurus are still in the kitchen sifting through the teabags half an hour later before Sphyrna comes around to see what they're doing. She climbs on one of the chairs and plants her elbows on the table with a curious look on her face. "You've been in the kitchen for a while, what are you guys doing?"  
Triakis turns to her and proudly shows her the box. "Isurus taught me the kinds of teas he had in there."  
The little girl pulls a face. "Boring."  
The boy shrugs and crumples a teabag in his hand, trying to remember what was in that one. "No, it's interesting. He teaches well."  
"It's just tea, what could be interesting about that?"  
Triakis nods to himself when he finds the answer : this is cheerful tea. "Alace, cherry, hibiscus and rose," he mutters to himself, and glances at Isurus to see if he got that right. The man nods with a smile. Triakis happily puts the teabag back in the box and pulls out another one while he answers the girl's question. "Well, it'll be useful if I need to drink something. That way I won't need to ask Isurus."  
Sphyrna rises both eyebrows. "Wait, you memorized all the tea in there already?"  
He smiles at her shyly. "Yeah... Well, right now I remember, but maybe tomorrow I won't."  
"Wow. I wish I had a memory like that," says the little girl wistfully.  
Triakis involuntarily glances at Isurus again, but this time he quickly looks back at the box in case Sphyrna notices anything.  
The little girl doesn't seem to pay attention to his reaction, holding out the bag she swiped out of the box while they weren't looking. "Could you tell me what this is, then?"  
The boy squints at the object, trying to make out the bits and pieces inside the fabric, but when he reaches out to take a closer look Sphyrna pulls it back with a teasing smile. "Ah ah, no touchy! You can try guessing by smell only."  
Triakis looks at her doubtfully. "Since when is that a rule?"  
"Since now. Come on, try it!" she says brightly.

Isurus watches as Triakis leans closer to the teabag to catch a whiff and gets it right after a moment of reflexion. He's as impressed as Sphyrna, even if he doesn't show it in the same expressive manner. He didn't expect the boy to have such a developed sense of smell, and even less to have that kind of memory considering his black-outs. It could be interesting to give Triakis an education in botanics, if his memory turns out to last.  
Isurus pushes himself away from the counter, mentally admonishing himself. He shouldn't project himself in the future just yet. Right now, the most important thing is to ensure that the boy will be at home here with his niece and nephew, which means Isurus needs to watch over him for any other black-outs and eventually see if there is a practicioner around here who would be ready to offer their services for a red-eyed individual. The man knows that it will be hard to find such a person, but he should still try to find one if anything goes wrong with Triakis. He also needs to sign him up for school, and write the list of things he needs from the market, and do a bit more research on red eyes, and there's the training with Carcha tomorrow morning, and he has to buy clothes for Triakis, ask the children to clean out a room for him, maybe-

"Isu, what are you thinking about?"  
The man looks at Sphyrna, her voice cutting him out of his inner ramblings, and notices Triakis is also gazing at him curiously.  
He straightens and smiles at them. "I'm sorry, I was thinking of what I needed to do before tonight. Did you say something?"  
Sphyrna nods. "Yeah, Triakis asked you when he had to go to school."  
Isurus looks at the red-eyed boy. "Well, I should sign you up this afternoon while there's still time, and you could go tomorrow. What do you think?"  
The boy nods. "Sure, but I don't have anything to write with."  
"We'll lend you stuff, don't worry," says Sphyrna. "We have a book to read too for next week, you can borrow mine if you want. Wait, you do know how to read, right?"  
"Yes, but... isn't a week a bit short?" asks Triakis worriedly.  
"You'll manage it," answers Sphyrna with a cheerful smile. "It's not a big book, don't worry!"  
"It took me three days," comes Carcha's voice from right outside the kitchen.  
Triakis turns around and his eyes meet those of the blonde as he steps inside the room.  
"Well, it took me two days," boasts Sphyrna. "You're slow."  
"That's because I only read it in the evening," retorts Carcha.  
"So did I," shrugs Sphyrna. "When did you even get that book anyway?"  
Carcha seems taken aback by her question, and she notices it right away, her eyes narrowing. "Ka... Did you take my book while I wasn't there?"  
"No," the boy hastily replies, too quick to be truthful.  
"I told you not to take my stuff behind my back!" exclaims Sphyrna indignantly. "Can't you ask me for anything?"  
"Hey, you're my little sister, I do what I want," answers the boy defiantly.  
Triakis quietly watches the exchange, not quite daring to participate in the siblings' heated arguments just yet. When he looks up at Isurus, he sees the man gesturing him out of the kitchen so he slides down his chair, letting the two others continue their fight on their own and following Isurus into the hall.

The man grabs his shoulder bag and turns to speak to the boy.  
"Triakis, I'm going to go sign you up right now while the school is still occupied and I was also thinking of buying you clothes, so you should come with me if you want to choose. What do you say?"  
The boy stares at him with a hesitant expression. "But... Right now?"  
"Yes, or it will be too late to sign you up for today. You don't have to, of course. However, I do believe it would be for the better, so that you witness the town and the school with your own eyes."  
The boy looked down and shuffled his feet. "...I guess you're right."  
Isurus smiles and takes a few steps towards the coat rack, grabbing Sphyrna's hat, and returns to the boy's side to set it on his head.  
The red-eyed boy looks up at him with a startled face, his hand flying up to his head to feel the hat under his fingers.  
"This is merely a precaution to protect you from the sun, for you have very pale skin. Don't worry, I shall find you your own hat so that you do not have to wear Sphyrna's for too long."  
Triakis makes a face. "This is a girl's hat? I don't want to wear a girl's hat..."  
Isurus chuckles. "It is only a temporary fix. If you want, we can go get one for you first thing after signing you up." He glances swiftly at Triakis's feet. "And perhaps some new shoes."  
The boy insists, albeit a bit shyly. "But isn't it obvious that this is a girl's hat?"

"Don't worry, you don't need the hat to look like a girl," comes Carcha's voice from behind him.  
He turns around and sees the blue-eyed boy smirking at him, leaning against the door. Before Isurus has the time to reprimand him, Sphyrna sticks her head out of the kitchen as well.  
"What are you talking about, my hat isn't girly, white is fine! And I'm not done with you, Ka, come back in here."  
Carcha turns to frown at her. "Well _I'm_ done."  
As Sphyrna pulls her protesting brother back inside the kitchen, Isurus nears the red-eyed boy and crouches next to him, gently grabbing him by the shoulder so that the boy may turn to him. Triakis looks at him with unsure eyes, and the man reassures him.  
"Do not listen to him, Triakis. As Sphyrna told you, no one will notice that you're wearing a girl's hat. Besides, the school is not far, we will be done with it in a short moment."  
Triakis looks away. "...All right."  
Isurus lets go of the boy's shoulder to get his shoes, and then takes hold of the boy's hand to head to the door. Just before stepping outside, he calls out to the children in the kitchen: "I'm going to go run some errands, I have better not find you still fighting upon my return."  
"Yes, Isu!" both siblings answer at the same time, and then they return to their argument.

Isurus closes the door behind him and Triakis, and looks down at the boy with raised eyebrows.  
"Difficult to handle, are they not?"  
Triakis shrugs, trying to hide his half-smile at seeing the man's expression. "Yeah... A little bit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	5. The Botanics (States of Consciousness) - Isurus' folders

Folder category: Botanics  
Folder name: Remedies  
Document name: States of consciousness

_Sonnuelia: Long purple petals in curved tips, white pistil, cream stamens, pale orange leaves veined with purple. Brown seeds. Small, white berries._  
Role : Extreme sedative.  
Use: Sleepiness achieved through inhalation of the petals' fragrance. Appeases pain if petals mixed with clay and applied on skin.  
Precautions : Not to be orally ingested. Leaves are not to be applied directly onto skin. Toxic if high dose.  
Side effects : None.  
Confusion: None. 

_Vigilli: Bunched flowers of short round pale pink petals, white pistil and stamens, wide deep green leaves. Red seeds. Bunched, small purple berries._  
Role: Extreme stimulant.  
Use: Only use the flowers mixed with water through oral ingestion.  
Precautions: Do not touch the leaves. Toxic if high dose, can lead to brain hemorrhage.  
Side effects: Can heavily disturb line of thought and cause violent mood swings.  
Confusion: Lovers' hearts (non toxic). 

_Vivien: tall herb, almost white in color, no leaves._  
Role: Stimulant. Prevents infectious disease. Supposedly prolongs life.  
Use: Ground in a paste, diluted with water and orally ingested for stimulant effects. Ground in a paste and applied in mouth and nose to prevent disease. Kept in bed or under pillow at night to prolong life.  
Side effects: Dryness of mucous membranes. Rare addictive properties.  
Confusion: Malgren (non toxic), Jhuze (common allergen) 

_Commot : Tree of dark bark and thin branches. Wide, three-lobed, round red leaves. Yellow flowers, yellow pistil and stamens. Plum-sized, red berries._  
Role: Stimulant.  
Use: Eat the fruit.  
Precautions: Avoid use in children. Two per day for an adult.  
Side effects : Can stimulate anger.  
Confusion: Common red plum (non toxic). 

_Alace: Tree of dark bark and thin branches. Lorate, pale green leaves. Vivid pink flowers, pink pistil and stamens. Medium sized, red berries._  
Role : Stimulant.  
Use: Eat the fruit.  
Precautions : Can be used in both children and adults.  
Side effects: Causes cheerful emotion. Rare addictive properties.  
Confusion : None. 

_Cirlang: Reddish herb, grows in small clumps._  
Role: Stimulant. Notably used to favor blood circulation.  
Use: Infusion to boost energy or redden facial complexion. Inhalation to clear the sinuses. Ointment to warm skin or to use against vasoconstriction.  
Precautions: Ideal dose varies from one individual to another..  
Confusion: None. 

_Scivibund: Heavy, floppy brownish to pale yellowish leaves, grows in large clumps._  
Role: Stimulant.  
Use: Chew on the leaves.  
Precautions: Toxic if high dose, can lead to heart attack.  
Side effects: Causes one to be jumpy, speech is accelerated and spontaneous. Possible addictive properties.  
Confusion : Yellow algae. 

_Lascior: Round bush, thin branches, thick roots. Yellow, small, multifid leaves. Small, white berries._  
Role: Strong aphrodisiac and/or stimulant.  
Use: Chew on berries. Ointment applied to erogenous zones.  
Precautions: Not to be used in children.  
Side effects: Possible addictive properties.  
Confusion: None. 

_Sularihia: Big wide flower of long yellow petals, wide brown pistil, brown stamens, no leaves. Long rigid thick stem. Black seeds mottled with brown._  
Role: Sedative in strong doses.  
Use: Petals ground to a pulp and mixed with water to be orally ingested.  
Precautions: None.  
Side effects: Causes one to laugh uncontrollably in small doses.  
Confusion: Sunflower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	6. The Town of Holsith

As both the man and the child start walking away from the house, Triakis takes in his surroundings with awe. He didn't pay attention earlier, when Isurus brought him home with Sphyrna, that they lived on such a high promontory; he was too tired, with too many thoughts in mind to pay any attention to the view.  
However after resting a bit, Triakis feels refreshed enough to study the place where Isurus lives. The setting sun gives the scene a bright orange glow, so bright that it hurts the boy's sensitive eyes, but despite the tears welling along his lashes he can't look away from the breathtaking view. The headland is covered in colourful plants and filled with chirping wildlife, and Isurus' house is situated at a safe distance from the cliff drop. Even from where he's standing, Triakis can see the glimmering body of water that spreads to the horizon, and it makes him feel very small. There's no wind, and he's thankful for that: as his body is right now, he feels like he could very well get swept off the ground and dropped into the water. He thinks this might be what people call the sea. He's not sure, because he's never seen such a thing before, not that he remembers.  
He tips his head back, marveling at the wide blue skies and the birds soaring above. He stays this way so long that his hat slides off his head and he has to pick it up.

He hears Isurus walking away, so he tears his eyes away from the view to follow the tall man with his hat in his hand, only to stop in his tracks again. The other side of the headland is a gradual slope which snakes down the cliff until it reaches the town, but it seems so far away that the houses look like small thimbles and the people like a milling crowd of ants. The whole town is mostly the color of earthy clay, but here and there Triakis can spot little dots of red, blue, green, yellow, orange: marketplaces, hanging clothes, paintings on the ground, flowers and tapestries. Although everything seems to be the size of an apple seed from where he stands, he feels insignificant. Everything is so big, so grand, that he can only feel the overwhelming sensation of pure wonder.

"Triakis, come along now," calls the blue-eyed man from a few steps away.  
The boy jolts out of his dazed state and hurries to the man's side, where Isurus sets his hand on Triakis's head. The boy looks up at him, and the man gently smiles.  
"Is the view that impressive?"  
Triakis nods. "Yes... I don't think I've ever been so high up before."  
Isurus' hand softly ruffles the boy's dark hair then reaches for his hand, and Triakis' small fingers slip in the man's open palm. The boy feels better when he's holding the man's hand. He feels anchored to the present time, as if Isurus were a landmark in this new, big world he's discovering. He feels like he won't get lost as long as he's got Isurus' warm hand wrapped around his.

Isurus tells him to put the hat back on with a smile, noticing that the boy has forgotten about it. Triakis looks down at it in surprise, as if suddenly remembering that he's holding something in his hand, and hastily complies. Then they start moving along the earth road again, and as they make progress down the cliff Triakis is amazed by the number of birds he encounters on the way down. He didn't think there could be so many different kinds of birds in one place. He remembers that there weren't many birds in the place of his memories, but that there were a lot of small rodents and lizards. He thinks he might've lived near a forest when he was young, because the birds remained hidden there.  
Here, in this place he has yet to wholly discover, there are birds with vivid red feathers and jet black lines on their backs and along their eyes, others with a body in different shades of blue and pale pink wings, some that are green and yellow and orange, and even one with long and light curled tail feathers the color of a purple evening that Triakis finds the prettiest.  
The flowers that line the wide path are varied as well, not only in colour but also in shape. Some are delicate, like the ones in the boy's memories, but others are thick and round, or tall and lean, or in spirals all along their stems. He doesn't touch any of them, because he doesn't want to bother Isurus by stopping for each one, but he guesses some have hard shells whilst others have petals so thin it would certainly feel like butter melting on his fingers were he to touch one.

Isurus studies him during their walk to the town, and the curious light in the boy's eyes pleases him. It reminds him of Sphyrna's, but in a much less malicious way. His looks of interest seem to be innocent, genuine, whereas the little girl's are always a bit too intense to be uninterested. She always seems to have an ulterior motive behind her will to learn. Carcha, on the other hand, never looks curious about anything except practical knowledge, and even then he feigns indifference. Isurus knows how to see through it, but most people don't, and so they believe that Carcha's dispassionate facade is real and think that he doesn't care about anything.  
Both of the siblings' behaviour bother Isurus to some degree, since he constantly worries that Sphyrna might be too mature and cunning for her age and that Carcha might get in trouble for the way he acts towards others.  
He looks down at the boy by his side again, who seems to be focused on a red nigracies. The bird's black stripes shift as it unfolds its wings and flies off, and the boy's head moves as his eyes follow the departing bird.

They pass the great stone arch that says "East Gate" in engraved letters, surrounded by goats grazing the green grass right outside the town, by running children that tumble in the flowers and by watchful mothers.  
Triakis stares at a man leaning against the stone pillar, interested by the object he has in his hands: the man is holding some kind of instrument with strings and is humming softly to himself.  
The boy doesn't notice the gazes at first, too busy taking in the tall houses and drawings on the ground, the animals walking freely about like donkeys and cats and dogs and some kind of jumping animal with a body that resembles that of a human.  
He turns to Isurus and asks: "What is that?", as he points towards the strange being.  
"That animal is called a monkey. They can be very agile thieves when they want to be, especially if you have food on you, so don't underestimate them."  
"Oh," answers the boy as he eyes the monkey with a wary gaze.  
Isurus smiles at the look on Triakis face, but he doesn't add anything.

They continue walking down the paved streets, and it doesn't take long for Triakis to notice that there's something wrong with the way other people look at him.  
At one moment, his eyes shift from a strangely tiled roof to the path ahead of him, and when he does that, his gaze crosses that of a sitting man. The man is staring at him with an expression that makes the boy's steps falter, and as soon as their eyes meet, the man averts his gaze and hurries to get up before rounding the corner of a house.  
Triakis doesn't stay frozen there for too long, as Isurus continues pulling him along, but the strange occurence plants a seed of worry in his heart. He starts paying more attention to the people that they come across, and he quickly comes to understand that the man wasn't the only one staring at him with such an expression. Triakis can't tell if the people who stare at him have a look of caution, worry, shock or spite in them. He feels like it might be changing every time, depending on the kind of person that sees him.  
The worry he feels in his heart continues growing and soon he feels like there are vines wrapping around it. He feels oppressed. He stops looking at his surroundings and his eyes stay glued to the ground, so that the edge of his hat may hide his eyes from others. He stops wondering about the things around him and worries about what people might be thinking.

Isurus soon realizes that the boy at his side is keeping his head down, so he stops walking.  
"Triakis, is there something wrong?"  
The boy hunches his shoulders. "...No."  
The man crouches in front of him, but the hat is still hiding Triakis' eyes from his view. "Tell me what's wrong."  
The boy shakes his head. "Nothing! ...There's nothing wrong."  
Isurus stares at him in concern. "Could you at least look at me?"  
Triakis' shoulders hunch up even more, and he stays silent for a while. The man then reaches for the hat and pushes it upwards so that he can fully see the boy's face. Triakis doesn't move, and doesn't protest, but his eyes are watering and he's frowning at the ground.  
Isurus softly squeezes the boy's shoulder. "What is it?"  
The boy bites his lip and sniffles, and Isurus has the feeling that Triakis cannot start talking without ending up crying. He lowers the hat back down and straightens, looking around. The school is just two streets ahead, but he doesn't want to bring Triakis there if he's in such a state. It would be distasteful of him to expose a crying Triakis to people the boy might see every day.  
He bends down and grabs the boy's hand in his own. "Are you feeling scared? Or sad?"  
The boy shakes his head.  
"Anxious, worried perhaps?"  
This time, the boy doesn't move.  
"Is it because of the school?"  
"No," answers Triakis in a trembling voice. "It's just... My eyes..."  
Isurus takes a moment to understand what the boy means, and when he does understand what the boy is talking about, he feels a twinge of sadness. There is no doubt the boy prepared himself to what would happen, but seeing it in all of its harsh reality probably pained Triakis more than anything he'd imagined.  
"You knew it would happen, didn't you?" asks the man gently.  
"Yes... But... Everyone..." the boy mutters tearfully.  
"It can't be helped. Red eyes are told to be a sign of calamity in every story, even in those for children. You have to be strong. You cannot let others prevent you from living the way you want to live, for seeing the things you want to see, for saying the words you want to say. I know it is hard, but you cannot let them."  
The boy nods, sucking in a wet, shaky breath.  
"Do you feel ready to continue?"  
Triakis wipes his eyes and nods again, his nose still a bit red from crying. Isurus slightly tightens his hold on the boy's hand to encourage him, and then they start walking again.

By the time they reach the school building, Triakis' soft sniffles have come to a stop. They both stand in front of the school's entrance and Isurus looks down at him.  
"When you go inside, you will have to take off the hat. No hiding your eyes at school."  
Triakis' head jerks up. "Why?" asks the boy, the resigned look in his eyes morphing in that of alarm.  
"It is disrespectful to hide your face in a place of teaching and learning. That is just how it is."  
The boy looks back at the ground wordlessly, and after a moment of hesitation, he takes the hat off.  
"Very good. Besides, if anyone makes trouble for you in school, tell me. I shall make it stop."  
"...Yes," answers Triakis in a meek voice.

The boy follows Isurus' lead down many pinkish orange corridors, gazing at the sheets of paper and drawings pinned on the wall. He feels comforted when he recognizes the words on the papers: he does know how to read, which means he probably knows how to write as well.  
Suddenly Isurus stops in front of him and Triakis abruptly halts, realizing that they are in front of a door. There is a panel on it that says "Director", and the boy understands that this is the place where the important people of the school work. Indeed, when he turns to his left, he sees another room. The door there has a panel where "Teachers" is written out, but it's not in the same pretty letters as the "Director" panel. His observations are cut short by the harsh sound of Isurus knocking on the Director's door, and the boy waits in nervous anticipation as he stays just a bit behind the tall man. He doesn't feel courageous enough to stand next to him.  
He almost jumps when the door opens, revealing a middle-aged woman with grey hair and blue eyes. She's dressed in a white shawl which seems worn by time and short brown pants, and her feet are bare. When she sees Isurus standing in front of her, her face lights up and she smiles at him warmly. Triakis guesses that they've known each other for some time.

"Isurus! What a nice surprise to have you here," exclaims the woman.  
"The pleasure is mine. I see I am lucky, I was afraid you were already gone considering the time."  
The woman looks to the side. "Oh my, is it that late already? I didn't see the time go by."  
Then she looks back at Isurus. "Well, what brings you here? Is it to talk about the siblings?"  
Isurus chuckles. "I see they haven't been as obedient as I would've liked them to be, if you feel the need to tell me about them."  
The woman smiles. "Well, you know how Carcha is. And Sphyrna has been acting a bit distracted during class, so I thought I should tell you at least that."  
"I see. Thank you for informing me, I shall have yet another discussion with them later. In the meantime, I wished to see you for another reason, entirely different from the siblings' behaviour in class."  
"Oh?" The woman raises her eyebrows in an interrogative expression, waiting for him to continue.  
"You see, I wanted to have this boy here participate in your classes."  
The woman's eyes slide down and Triakis hides behind Isurus before she can see his eyes.  
"Oh my, I didn't even see him there!" She clicks her tongue and slowly crouches. "Now, now, don't be afraid of me young man. I'm not going to bite you."  
Triakis grabs hold of Isurus' clothes, afraid of being dragged forward. Isurus reaches behind him to put his hand on the boy's shoulder, but he doesn't try to pull him out of his hiding place. His hand stays firmly settled where it is as he cautiously warns the director.  
"Director Mysloe, you should know one thing about this child."  
The woman looks up at Isurus. "What is it?"  
"He may act very shy because of his eye color."  
"His eye color?" repeats the woman with a slight frown.  
Isurus nods. "He has red eyes."

Triakis doesn't see the woman's expression when she hears that, but he does hear the complete silence that comes after the man's words.  
After a short while, he hears the woman say: "Red eyes?"  
"Yes."  
Another silence. A rustle, surely the woman getting back up. "You do know what that means, don't you? You are young, Isurus, but not foolish. Surely you understand what risks accepting him in my school implies."  
"I do. And I believe that as the director of this school, surely you understand what it means to refuse him his place here."  
The woman stays silent, and Isurus continues.  
"We both know what it means to teach and learn. We are both people of knowledge. I trust that you are not blinded by petty rumours and legends about something as natural as eye color."  
"I am not the problem, Isurus. Think about all the others that come here to learn and teach. What will the teachers think? Even if I accept this child in my school, the teachers could very well refuse to teach him what they know. His classmates could-" She breaks off, and sighs. "I don't think we should talk about these matters in front of such a young boy. What is his name?"  
"Triakis."  
"...Triakis, is it." She stays silent for a bit more, and Triakis imagines that she is staring at the man in front of her. "Isurus..."  
"Yes. He is part of my family now."  
Triakis feels his heart skip a beat at Isurus' words, and the grip of his hand on the man's clothes slightly tightens. The man seems to feel it, as his hand gently squeezes the boy's shoulder to reassure him.  
"...Then I think Triakis should wait in the next room while we discuss this situation," says the woman.  
Isurus nods and turns around. The boy is looking up at him with a worried gaze, so the man gives hims a comforting smile.  
"It's all right, Triakis. We'll be done soon, I promise. Can you go sit in the teachers' room while I talk with Director Mysloe?"  
The boy nods hesitantly, then looks to the side warily. The woman has stepped forward, and she is now in a position which allows her to get a good look at him.

Director Mysloe doesn't let anything show on her face besides a reassuring smile, but a lot of emotions are raging inside of her. She has never seen a red-eyed child before, and it disturbs her to see one. She knows of the many stories concerning red eyes, of their rumoured bad luck, cursed irises worn by immortal bringers of plague and evil, but she also knows that many of these are just drunk men's fictional ramblings from ages ago, people who had imagined the glow of red eyes tracking them down during their hunt, or dreamed it, and shared the story with eager listeners. Stories which in turn were amplified and twisted into horrifying and gruesome tales, to satisfy people's hunger for the thrill that only fear could bring them.  
The longer she studies him, the more harmless he seems. His expressions, his movements, they are all things she usually sees in obedient and sweet children, yet the color of his eyes is a brutal contrast with his meek demeanor.  
What also sets her on edge is that the child's face is bruised. She doesn't know why it upsets her this much, but she feels like those bruises are ominous, dangerous. Wherever did Isurus pick up such a child?

Isurus gently pushes the boy towards the room, and Triakis opens the door with an irresolute expression on his face. He turns around again, glancing at Isurus, but the man smiles and waves him on, so Triakis steps in and quietly closes the door behind him.  
Isurus straightens and turns back to the woman. "Well then. Let us talk."  
"Indeed." The woman gestures him in her office and enters after him, pushing the door shut. "You realize what trouble he could get in for his eyes, don't you?"  
"I know, but were anything to happen, I could withdraw him from your classes. My wish is merely for him to try and see what school is like."  
"Isurus... I have the feeling that you don't understand how far some children can go. Although I have control over my teachers, should they not be on their best behaviour, I don't have control over every single student. I can't keep an eye on them all the time."  
"Sphyrna can."  
"Sphyrna?"  
"He is only one year older than her. Put him in her class, and she will watch over him."  
"Isurus, Spyrna doesn't have the greatest attendance record. She won't be there all the time."  
"I know, but it will be enough."  
"Have you talked to her about her repeated leaves?"  
"Yes, but just like you said, I cannot keep an eye on her at all times."  
Director Mysloe stares at the young man with stern eyes. "You know how red eyes are feared here. You know what fear can turn into."  
"I do."  
"And you would still be ready to put Triakis through this kind of trial?"  
"You are contemplating the worst-case scenario, which does not mean it has to happen. Besides, if it ever comes down to it, I shall act upon the situation."  
"Is Triakis the kind of child to fight back should anything happen?" inquires the director.  
"I'm afraid not," answers Isurus. "He seems to dislike confrontation. I've seen the way he acts when he sees the siblings fight, and it's like it frightens him."  
"I was afraid so," sighs the woman. "At least Sphyrna would know how to defend him if he was hassled by his classmates."  
She steps around her desk and leans against it, crossing her arms. "I will accept him in my school. However... I still disapprove of your choice, Isurus. Triakis might lead a difficult school life, and you know how badly I feel about such things."  
"It happens everywhere, Tessella."  
She shakes her head. "Isurus... You were strong. It might not be this boy's case."  
"Or it might be. We won't know unless he attends your classes. I want him to know how things work in this town, and school is a smaller replica of it. He'll learn who to respect, who to fear, who to be friends with, who to avoid, how to act, how to learn. He needs this, he is too naive the way he is right now."  
Director Mysloe's blue eyes widen. "Don't tell me you want him to follow your line of work."  
"He is part of my family now. I am the one to decide where his future is headed."  
"You know he's not one of yours. How can he become like you? You can't expect the same things of him as you do of your nephew and niece."  
"Not the same things, but I certainly can expect some things. He's shown remarkable memory and interest in his surroundings, and if-"  
"Isurus," cuts the woman. "He is a child. Don't get too far ahead of yourself."  
The young man bows his head in admission. "You are right. I should be careful."  
Director Mysloe pushes herself away from her desk and takes another few steps towards Isurus. "You are a friend, which is why I will warn you. I believe you would not want me to talk about this red-eyed child, but you know the news will get out soon, and it is my duty to inform others about this. You might be hearing from the Elder sooner than you'd expect."  
"I know, Tessella. I know you cannot go against your task, and the only thing I ask of you is to teach Triakis all that you and your teachers know. I shan't ask you to be silent, it is only natural for others to know about Triakis. After all," smiles the man, "it isn't everyday that a Mindbender takes in a red-eyed child."  
Director Mysloe sighs again. "I hope you know what you are doing."

Triakis hears the door to the teacher's room open and he stops swinging his legs, his gaze landing on Isurus. The man gestures him out of the room, so the boy hops down and hurries to his side.  
"What did she say?" he inquires anxiously.  
Isurus smiles. "You're starting class tomorrow. Sphyrna will be with you."  
The man had expected the boy to be relieved, but he still seems conflicted. He just nods and steps forward, letting Isurus close the door behind him.  
"Are you worried still?" asks the man as he nears Triakis.  
The boy nods. "What will the others say? Won't my eyes disturb them? Won't it make class difficult for the teacher?"  
"Perhaps, but we shall find a way, do not fret. As of now we should get you some clothes, and I need to buy some plants."  
Triakis doesn't say anything else, but Isurus can see how everything is weighing down on his small shoulders. The poor boy must be tired from it all.  
"We'll be home soon, all right?"  
Triakis looks at him. Then his eyes drop to the ground and he nods quietly.

Both the boy and the man walk out of the school's orange clay gates and make their way down the streets to the market.  
Triakis doesn't talk much on the way, so Isurus tries to reassure him.  
"There will be many people at the marketplace, but do not worry. A lot of the traders there are acquaintances of mine, they will not importune you."  
"Are you sure?" asks Triakis hopefully, and Isurus nods.  
"Of course. Why would I lie about it?"  
The boy nods, staring ahead apprehensively. 

They soon reach the noisy agora with its colourful tents and rich scents, and despite his best efforts not to, Triakis can't help looking at everything that surrounds him with wide eyes. He doesn't think he's ever seen so many things at once in a single place. Tents filled with vegetables or fruits, others with salted meat and pheasants hanging from their front, men and women selling confections, alcohols, pastries, bread, shouting out to the clients to buy their fish and crabs.  
Some have live birds in cages, and Triakis feels pity for the small winged animals when he sees them enclosed in such a tight space. He promises himself to come back and buy several as soon as he can so he can free them.  
There's an old woman selling flowers, as well, and Triakis doesn't understand what purpose this kind of commerce can serve. Those flowers are everywhere as soon as one steps out of the town, so why spend money for it?  
The boy ends up telling himself that it must be a grown-up thing.

The tent he likes the most is the one where a man is selling medicinal herbs and tea, and he's not very surprised when the trader interpellates Isurus with a wide and knowing smile, as if greeting an old friend. Isurus puts his hand on the boy's shoulder, silently inciting him to come with him, before he walks up to the man. They pat each other on the shoulder and laugh, asking each other how they've been doing and then talking about things Triakis doesn't quite understand, but the boy suspects the complicated words they're using are just names of plants. He stays silently next to Isurus as the man talks with the seller, his eyes roaming over the items on display. He guesses there are many different kinds of teas here when his eyes latch onto several woven baskets in the back filled with small white bags. Then his eyes wander along the tent's walls, taking in the hanged sprigs and branches of different colors and shapes. He doesn't recognize any of them, but he wishes he knew what they were used for.  
Suddenly he feels a large hand resting on his shoulder, and when he looks up he sees Isurus smiling at him.  
"If you're curious about those, I can teach you what they are used for. Right now, we need to go buy you some clothes."  
Triakis nods, noticing the plump aspect of Isurus' satchel. He starts following the man, guessing Isurus bought some of the trader's products while he wasn't looking.

They leave the food part of the market and enter the other section, where tapestries flap gently in the air and clothes are layed out everywhere, squares of fabric and pairs of shoes are displayed on the ground, and there are even tents selling furniture, paintings and decorative objects.  
This time Isurus doesn't lose time speaking with the traders he knows and guides Triakis towards a tent selling hats.  
As they stop in front of the stand, Isurus says: "Here, I know this is what you want the most. Choose the one you like best."  
Triakis looks up at Isurus, then at the many different hats laid out in front of him. He didn't think he'd be the one to choose what he would be wearing.

As he hesitates because of the overwhelming amount of hats to choose from, he doesn't see the silent battle taking place next to him. Isurus sees the way the lady selling the hats is watching the boy, and he doesn't like her stare at all. He can see it in her eyes, she's about to tell him to go see somewhere else, she's opening her mouth to say that she won't sell to him, so he steps closer to the red-eyed boy and leans forward so as to catch her eye.  
The lady notices him in turn and her eyes widen when she recognizes him. He doesn't come at her tent very often, but he bought Sphyrna's hat here and he remembered this trader to be a very open and kind person. Of course, he knew the traders he'd met before wouldn't be as pleasant with Triakis by his side, but he'd expected her protest to be silent. He didn't want her sending Triakis off to another seller, the boy was already tired enough with all the people he'd come across today and he really didn't need another rebukal.  
So when the woman's gaze cross Isurus', he narrows his eyes at her with heavy menace. She shuts her mouth immediately, and then she opens it again to stutter: "N-Na'ar Isurus, I'm sorry, I didn't see you! I am thrilled to see you here again!"  
Isurus gives her a curt nod. "The pleasure is mine. I thought I would visit you again to buy a hat for my boy."  
The woman's eyes dart to the boy, but she quickly looks back at Isurus when she sees that Triakis has raised his eyes to look at her. "Your... boy?"  
"Yes."  
She quickly shakes off her lost look and smiles widely, hiding her perplexity behind the mask she wears to enchant costumers. "I see, I see. Well then, go ahead, choose whichever hat you prefer!" she exclaims, without looking at the boy.

Triakis lowers his eyes back down and shows a hat to Isurus.  
"I think this one is the one I want."  
Isurus takes it and lifts it up, turning it in his hands. It's a simple straw hat, darker in color than the usual, but Isurus understands right away why Triakis would choose this particular hat. It has a amber veil hanging all around it, and it seems to reach the middle of the wearer's face, just a bit above the nose. The man nods to himself and looks at Triakis.  
"Nice choice. Care to try it on?"  
Triakis promptly takes off Sphyrna's hat and Isurus lowers the straw hat on the boy's head. It's a bit too big for the size of the boy's head, but unfortunately it's the only one the woman sells since they're all hand-made.  
"It's fine," says Triakis, "I'll grow into it anyway."  
"Are you sure?"  
Triakis smiles at him. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I'm going to grow up, Isurus."  
Isurus is surprised at first- is the little boy giving him lip? But then he chuckles and flicks the tip of his hat. "Do not try to act smart, you little rascal. All right then, if that is the one you want, we shall take it. You can go choose some shoes in the next stand, I believe you need new ones."  
Triakis looks down at his feet and tilts his head to the side. "...True. They are a bit worn out."  
"Go ahead, then," says Isurus as he gives the child a light push.  
He watches the boy walk off to the nearest tent, his new hat hiding his eyes from others, and then turns back to the woman. The trader tells him her price and as she receives five coins in her hand, she frowns and looks up at Isurus. "Na'ar, I only need four-"  
"It is fine," the man cuts her off. "I want to thank you for your cooperation."  
The woman hesitates shortly, then her mouth forms a silent "oh" when she understands that he's talking about the boy's eyes. She shakes her head with a worried look on her face as she insists: "I'm sorry, na'ar, I didn't mean to offend you earlier, I shouldn't have been-"  
"It is fine," repeats Isurus. "I understand. Thank you for the hat, and have a good day."

Then he turns away from the woman and joins Triakis.  
The boy turns around when he hears him walk up to him and asks him: "Hey, Isurus, why did she call you na'ar?"  
"What do you mean? Do you not know what na'ar means?"  
Triakis shakes his head, so Isurus explains: "It is a term that shows you respect the man who you are calling na'ar. For a woman, the correct term is na'er."  
"Oh, I see," answers the boy before returning to the shoes and crouching to pick a pair up. "I think I want these ones."  
They buy the shoes and clothes in the shortest time Isurus has ever needed to buy the siblings what they needed. Triakis doesn't hesitate very long, and chooses the simplest things. Back open leather shoes, blouses woven in light beige or brown cotton threads, linen pants, and that's all.  
They're done before the sky starts to darken, and Isurus has the time to make a few purchases he hadn't originally planned, like buying some beef, oranges, pine nut candy for Sphyrna, dates for Carcha and spice candy for himself. Triakis seemes to be interested by each of these treats, but he doesn't say anything or ask for treats himself. However, he does wonder aloud about the spice candy as they start walking back home.  
"Isurus, you like candy too?"  
"Only this kind. It is healthy candy."  
"What's in it?"  
"Ginger, berries, cloves and almonds all covered in honey. I shall give you some if you so desire."  
"Really?" exclaims the boy, joy glittering in his eyes from underneath the veil.  
"Of course," smiles Isurus. "Next time you go to the market with one of us, ask for some candy if you want to try any. Pine nut candy is Sphyrna's favorite, so I am used to buying candy for someone's exclusive use."  
"Pine nut candy?"  
"Yes. Ginger, cane sugar, honey and of course pine nut kernels. It is very sweet, she was not lying to you when she told you that she loved candy."  
"...I want to try it later, can I?" asks Triakis shyly.  
"It should not be a problem, but be careful to ask her first. I bought these for her, after all."  
The boy nods with a small smile. "I will." Then he holds out his hands. "Do you need any help to carry all of that?"  
Isurus smiles back and says : "If you are so eager to help, I shall not refuse the offer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> So yeah, I'm trying to develop this story's universe before writing out the real plot. These first chapters are very introductory, and the actual story will start after a few more chapters that depict the characters and their childhood. I feel like I really need to show you the dynamics between each main character before starting to write the actual issues the characters will encounter.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	7. The School

Isurus and Triakis finally step across the house's treshold and are greeted by the thunderous sound of the sibling's footsteps running across the house to join them.  
Sphyrna is the first to reach the entry hall and grabs the jute bag full of oranges that Isurus is carrying, and notices the change in Triakis' attire. "Ooooh, nice hat Triakis! I like the color!"  
Carcha appears soon after, stares at Triakis and then takes the piece of meat off of his uncle's hands without commenting.  
Sphyrna gets closer to Triakis and peeks inside the small basket the boy is holding, and her smile grows even wider. "You got us treats? Thanks, Isu!"  
"You are welcome. Carcha, I bought you dates," says Isurus, and then he turns to the red-eyed boy and takes Sphyrna's hat from under his arm to hang it on the rack next to him. "Follow them to the kitchen, they'll show you where to put away the groceries."  
The red-eyed boy nods and Carcha steps away from them all, Sphyrna and Triakis following his lead.

As Carcha pulls a chair out to take it with him in the small room adjacent to the kitchen, Sphyrna crouches next to a cupboard and opens it to put away the oranges, simultaneously pointing out a higher cupboard to Triakis.  
"The candy and all goes up there, take a chair."  
Triakis does as told, standing on it to empty the basket on the cupboard's shelf, and as he does so he asks: "Where did Carcha take the meat?"  
"In the storage room. It's colder there."  
"Oh." Triakis climbs down and pushes the chair back to its original emplacement, and Sphyrna stands up with the empty jute bag in her hands.  
"So are you coming to school tomorrow?" she inquires, and adds: "Give me the basket, I'll go put it away with the bag."  
"No, it's fine, I want to see where you put those away. And yeah, I am."  
Sphyrna walks out of the kitchen, Triakis in her stead, and she continues talking. "That's great! I've got plenty of extra pencils and erasers, so I'll give you some. Isurus probably has a pouch to lend you so you can put those inside, and then we have a lot of paper in this house so that shouldn't be a problem either."  
They reach the small rack in the entry way and Sphyrna kneels, shoving the jute bag at the back of the lowest shelf, and sticks out her hand for the basket. As the boy hands it to her, she says: "You look tired."  
Triakis is surprised by her comment, then he considers how he feels and shrugs. "I guess I am."  
"You know, you don't have to come to school as early as us tomorrow. Did Isurus tell you anything about oversleeping?"  
"He said he'd allow it for tomorrow if I had trouble sleeping."  
"I don't think you're going to have any, but yeah, just so you know."  
Triakis shakes his head. "No, it's fine, I want to come with you."  
Sphyrna gets up from her kneeling position and watches the boy's face closely. He's a bit taken aback by her proximity, but then she pulls away and says: "You really look like you need some sleep. I get it, you don't want to go alone tomorrow, but if that's the case you should go to bed early."  
Triakis nods meekly. "I will."

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly, and although Carcha practically doesn't talk to him at all, Triakis still feels better eating with them than earlier. It's not like he feels like he belongs here, not really, but the fact that Isurus considers it to be the case comforts the boy. After eating, he takes his shower, puts on one of Carcha's old night gowns, and slips into bed. He slowly falls asleep listening to the distant sound of Carcha and Sphyrna talking in the living room below.  
_

Later that night, as Carcha lies on his covers facing the wall, he hears his sister's bed creak and her feet softly pace towards him. He rolls on his back to face her, and she stops in front of him.  
"What's the matter?" he asks.  
She twists the tip of her stuffed rabbit's ear in her hand and whispers : "I can't sleep..."  
Carcha takes a moment to fully wake up, pushing the tendrils of sleepiness out of his mind. She was quietly humming their mother's song earlier, the way she hummed every night before falling asleep, and it lulled him to sleep like always. Apparently, it didn't have enough of a soothing effect for Sphyrna tonight. She's wide awake and seems very troubled. Carcha quickly guesses that this is one of those night talks. He can see it in her face and the way she stands there, her small shoulders drooping under the weight of her own thoughts.  
He pushes himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong?"  
"Can we go talk outside?"  
Carcha nods and takes a blanket with him before they walk out of their room.

The outdoors is a bit frisky from the sea foam drifting in the air, but some of the day's warmth still lingers in the cliff's earthy ground. The siblings sit down quietly and Carcha wraps the blanket around both of them.  
Then he asks: "What do you want to talk about?"  
Sphyrna gazes at the wide sea and the stars gently twinkling in the lapping waves. The gulls are quiet at night, and despite their white sails, the boats are invisible in the darkness of the night.  
She slowly opens her mouth, taking the time to choose her words. "I... keep thinking about them. When I saw Triakis like that, I just... You know."  
"...Yeah." Carcha nods. "I know."  
"And I keep thinking that maybe I could've done something. Even if I know that wouldn't have been possible. I know you and Isu are right, that I did the right thing, but..."  
Carcha watches as his little sister's eyes start to glimmer, her unshed tears trapping slivers of moonlight along her lower lid. Her lip starts to tremble, so he pulls her closer to him.  
"It's all right, Syf. Don't worry. We'll find him when we're older, Isurus told us so."  
Sphyrna doesn't answer, her shoulders shaking lightly under her brother's arm as she sniffles.  
"You wanna stay here?" asks Carcha.  
After a while of silence, she nods.

They stay there.  
_

Waking up the next morning proves to be a bit more difficult for Triakis than he thought it would be. He doesn't have any trouble waking, but when he does he's completely lost. He doesn't recognize the room, he doesn't know where he is nor what time it is, and he has no idea why he was sleeping here. After a short moment of panic, everything comes rushing back to his head and he falls back on his mattress in relief.  
He didn't forget them. He knows where he is. He knows what happened yesterday.  
He remembers everything.  
Triakis closes his eyes and sends silent thanks to the sky, grateful that his memory didn't betray him over the night.  
Then his eyes snap open again when he hears Sphyrna shout Carcha's name from the other side of the house. He hops out of the bed and hurriedly gets out of his night gown to pull on one of his new blouses and pants, then rushes out of his bedroom to the kitchen, where he can hear some clattering coming from.  
He steps inside and is greeted by the sight of Sphyrna cutting some bread and mumbling under her breath, but as soon as she notices him she smiles and throws him a piece. "Here you go! Hey, could you go wake up Carcha? He's probably being his lazy bum self and won't get up."  
Triakis stares at her, dumbfounded, with his piece of bread in his hand. "Wake up Carcha? But won't he get mad?"  
Sphyrna opens her mouth to answer, but a voice coming from Triakis' back stops her from replying.  
"No need. I'm awake."  
Triakis jumps and whips around, ending up face-to-face with the blonde boy. He tries to say something, anything, but he can't get a sentence to sound right in his head and before he can speak, Carcha is already walking past him and asking for some bread as well.  
Sphyrna rolls her eyes. "Not your slave, Ka, cut it yourself."  
"Why does he get you to cut him a piece and not me?" asks Carcha, pointing at the red-eyed boy, and Sphyrna pushes past him.  
"Because he's not a lazy bum. You should've gotten up earlier."  
"Pff. Jerk." Carcha takes the bread knife and Sphyrna ignores him, gesturing Triakis to sit down with her at the table. They both start eating their bread and suddenly, the girl straightens.  
"Oh, by the way, I don't know if you noticed, Triakis, but Isu left you one of his old pouches. It should be in your room next to the door."  
"Oh, all right. I didn't see it, I'll get it later."  
"Sure. Anyway, feeling ready for school?" she asks with a mischievious smile, and Triakis gulps.  
"...I'm not sure."  
Carcha appears next to him and pulls out a chair, falling on it with a heavy sigh. "Mornings are fucking hard."  
"Maybe you shouldn't go to bed so late," says Sphyrna. They'd gone back inside together once she felt better, but Carcha had stayed up longer than her after that.  
Carcha glares at her. "Shaddup." Then he chomps down on the piece of bread.  
"Triakis, we have honey and butter if you want," adds Sphyrna without heeding her brother's moody reply.  
Triakis looks up from his piece of bread and nods. "Um, yeah. Please."  
Sphyrna stands up and goes to rummage through one of the cupboards."Do you like milk? Or maybe you drink water, or tea?"  
"Yeah, I'll take milk," answers Triakis as he cautiously eyes the older boy. The little girl finds the honey and walks back to the table to hand it to him, then goes to the storage room and comes out holding the bottle of milk and the butter wrapped in wax paper.  
Carcha frowns at Triakis. "How come she's acting like some servant? Can't you go get those things yourself?"  
Sphyrna walks up to the table and sets the bottle down, along with a glass, and then she turns to her brother. "Ka, he doesn't know where things are yet. Can't you calm down a little?"  
Carcha humphs and doesn't answer while Triakis pours himself his glass of milk.  
Sphyrna rolls her eyes yet again and gives Triakis the "don't mind him" look. The boy feels his lips tug into a little smile that he immediately hides behind his glass, but Sphyrna catches it and smiles as well.

They get ready to leave the house without seeing Isurus, and Triakis is slightly disappointed about that. He would've liked the older man to see him off for his first day of school, but at the same time he knows he can't ask too much of the man. Isurus is probably very busy working in his study.  
Triakis is ready just a few seconds after Sphyrna, and he isn't very surprised when he notes that Carcha is the last one. It doesn't seem to be unusual, either, judging by the practically bored way she calls out to him.  
"Carcha, what are you doing? Hurry up!"  
"Almost ready," calls back the blonde.  
They wait about three minutes before the boy finally appears in the living room, and then they can leave at last. The trip to school is shorter than Triakis remembers, but it's also because talking with Sphyrna and listening to the siblings' discussions are both distracting activities. Triakis doesn't see the scenery nor the time pass by.

When Triakis steps through the school's gates, not many people pay attention to him thanks to his veiled hat. He stays hidden behind both of the siblings until Carcha leaves them to join his two friends; then, Triakis remains hidden behind Sphyrna, the only one left to shield him from the others.  
The girl notices how close he sticks to her, but she doesn't say anything about it. She can very well see that Triakis is scared, scared of being left alone, scared of all the people around him, scared to be discovered, so she decides to go easy on him and steers clear of her group of friends. She stays with him on the side of the schoolyard and tries to get him to calm down.  
"Triakis, are you all right?"  
"Um, yes, yeah, I'm fine." The red-eyed boy nods nervously, and she can see his red eyes darting around the place behind his veil.  
"You don't look fine."  
He looks at her with worried eyes. "No, I'm just- Um. When do we have to go inside?"  
"When the teachers show up."  
"Sphyrna, what- What am I going to do when... I'm gonna have to take off my hat, I know, but I'm worried about what's going to happen then."  
"Just relax, I'm here with you, remember? If anything happens, I'll be there, so don't worry about it."  
Triakis swallows and nods again.  
Sphyrna feels like she's looking after a younger child, and a small seed of self-pride sprouts in her chest.

Then a bell rings and Triakis' head snaps up, his eyes zeroing in on the entrance of the building. Several adults are stepping out of it, and he sees all the other students gathering in lines in front of the teachers. Sphyrna grabs his arm and pulls him to one of the lines, and he follows obediently. He has no idea what's happening, but he's guessing this is routine.

Each teacher walks down their line, counting the students' heads, and then they go back to the front and start calling names alternatively. Triakis looks around. Each line has approximately thirty students, and there are ten lines. The teachers have varying ages, and the one in front of his line is a lady that seems to be one of the youngest teachers here. She isn't doing a roll call, but he notices that she's staring straight at him. He shifts uneasily and looks away.  
He searches for Carcha, and he finds him two lines away from his. His eyes trail back up the boy's line and he sees that Carcha's teacher is a man in his fifties with rectangular glasses. He has a stiff expression on his face. Triakis takes another look at the adults. Not a lot of them are smiling, but they sure look nicer than this guy.

Then the last teacher finishes his roll call and looks over at the others with a slight nod. The teacher at the far left calls out to his line and the students follow him into the building. Then it's the turn of the next line, and then the line after that, and then the line Sphyrna and Triakis are in.  
As they near the entrance, Sphyrna looks at him and says: "You should take your hat off now."  
He turns to her and sees that she's giving him an encouraging smile. He lifts his hand up and clenches the edge of his hat, feeling acid anxiety flare up in his chest.  
"Are you sure it's gonna be fine?" he asks worriedly, and she nods.  
"Sure. No worries."  
Triakis stares at her a bit longer before breathing in deeply and taking off his hat. Everything is clearer without the veil covering his eyes, but he feels exposed now.  
"There you go," says Sphyrna.  
Triakis doesn't answer, too busy worrying about what's going to happen next.

The students in his line enter a classroom, and the teacher stands next to the door as each student says hello to her. Triakis learns that he's supposed to call her na'er Nolia when he hears the students before her calling her by her name. When he says hello to her, she doesn't answer back, so he starts getting a bad feeling in his guts, like maybe he did something wrong and he doesn't know it. Sphyrna assures him he did nothing wrong, but it doesn't comfort him.

When he sits down next to Sphyrna, he feels all the other children's eyes on him. He looks down at his clasped hands, which start getting sweaty from nervousness. They don't talk to him, but Triakis feels like a storm's about to break. He doesn't know how or when, but it's going to happen.

Class starts, and at first nothing happens. Triakis just observes how class works, tries to memorize the names of his classmates. Sphyrna is there to help him when there's something he doesn't get. He notices that some of the students have their own hushed conversations in their corner even if the teacher is talking, and a few of them don't listen at all. It seems to be normal, since the teacher doesn't say anything about it.  
The class ends, recess starts.  
Triakis remains by Sphyrna's side, and he sees three, four students giving him bad looks from across the courtyard, so he looks away. Sphyrna watches him with a concerned expression.  
"What's wrong, Triakis?"  
The boy looks at her, and he appears to be very anxious and troubled. "They're looking at me. I think I did something wrong, it's not just my eyes."  
It's not just his eyes, he's sure, because the people he came across yesterday who seemed disturbed by his eyes didn't stare at him like that. Not with eyes so full of... So full of dislike. Not so intensely, not so long, not so focused.  
Sphyrna looks around and catches the boys wearing hateful expressions before they can look away, and then looks back at Triakis. "They're stupid. You didn't do anything wrong, don't worry. Just ignore them."  
"...It's not easy," answers the boy, and Sphyrna doesn't know what to say.  
The bell rings. The lines form, and this time the teachers don't count.

The second period begins.  
This time, the lesson isn't just about copying what's written on the board: the teacher asks them all a question.  
"So, class, let's try and think about the possible explanations before we start the experiment: how could a butterfly's color help it survive? Remember, we'll also be studying its environment and its predators, so the answer to this question is linked to those. So, what do you think?"  
The teacher waits, but no one answers. The answer is easy, but there's not a single student raising their hand. Triakis looks around and then leans towards Sphyrna to ask: "Why is no one answering?"  
She looks at him. "What, do you know the answer?"  
Triakis stares at her. "Yeah. Do you?"  
She nestles her chin in her palm and smiles. "Why don't you try answering then, if you're so smart?"  
Triakis looks around again, and it seems some students have caught on, because they're looking at him as if they're expecting something.  
He looks back at her. "You think I can?"  
"Well, yeah, I mean someone's gotta answer."  
Triakis looks at the teacher, but she isn't paying attention to him. There still isn't one raised hand among the students, so Triakis tentatively raises his hand, feeling a bit nervous. 

There's a collective rush of whispers in the room when he does that, and he immediately knows he shouldn't have done it. The teacher looks at him, but only for a short while. She quickly averts her eyes and asks if anyone wants to answer, and Triakis understands that he's being ignored, but he keeps his hand raised. He'll feel even more stupid if he gives up when he knows the right answer. He's sure he knows, he's seen the answer before, when he was little. He remembers seeing it with his own eyes.  
No one answers, so the teacher finally looks at him and says: "Triakis."  
The boy lowers his hand and says: "Birds eat clear butterflies instead of dark butterflies when they're on dark bark."  
The teacher nods and quickly passes on to something else, but the rest of the class doesn't. Triakis doesn't dare look at the others, but he can feel the pressure of their stares upon him. Sphyrna touches his arm and when he looks at her, she smiles.  
"That was cool. How'd you know that?"  
"I saw it in the woods," he answers.  
"We don't have those around here... You come from far, don't you?" replies Sphyrna, and Triakis instantly regrets answering the teacher's question. He was stupid. It was a stupid move.  
"Um... No, not really."  
"Where was it?"  
Triakis turns away from her, and stares at the paper in front of him. "...I don't want to talk about it."  
The little girl gets the message and doesn't insist.

Then lunch time rolls around, and half of the class as well as the teacher leave the classroom to eat. Sphyrna tells Triakis to wait at his desk while she goes to buy them something to eat at the school's lunch room, and leaves the classroom as well. Triakis decides to read his notes again, to see if he's made any mistakes. He's pretty proud of himself for writing so well despite feeling like it's been ages since he's written on paper. He wonders if he could ask Isurus for some colored pencils, like the ones several other students have. It would make his notes easier to organize and read, and it would be prettier, too.  
He doesn't contemplate his notes for long, though, because suddenly he feels someone's presence next to him. He looks up, his eyes meeting those of a taller and bigger boy who recoils when he sees Triakis' eyes.  
"Ew, you really have red eyes... That's really creepy."  
There's a girl next to him, a pretty brunette with brown eyes, and she's also staring at him with a distasteful expression.  
Triakis doesn't understand what they want from him, and he feels a bit hurt by the boy's words. He doesn't know what to answer, either.  
"Is he deaf or something?" asks the boy, and the girl leans in closer to him.  
"Hey, are the stories true? Or is it really just stories?"  
Triakis tries to shake his stupor off and answers: "What?"  
The girl studies his face. "Maybe he's just stupid."  
"A freak, and a show-off," adds the boy for good measure.  
Triakis frowns. "Why are you...?"  
"Shut it, freak. You act all smart, you sit next to Sphyrna, do you think you're special?" asks the boy.  
"You shut up," the girl snaps at the boy. "Let _me_ talk to him." Then she turns back to Triakis and simpers: "Is it true people like you bring bad things?"  
"Bad things?" echoes Triakis. The girl sighs and rolls her eyes.  
"He doesn't even get it," scorns the boy. "Listen up, Red Eyes, the point is you're a freak so you better not try to be such a show-off all the time."  
Triakis suddenly notices something hurtling towards them and ducks, but he doesn't need to. The object hits the boy in the back of the head and he screams: "Ow!" before whipping around in anger, only to be faced with an equally irritated Sphyrna.  
"What do you guys think you're doing?" she asks.  
Triakis straightens, and notices that the students who remained in the class are all staring at them.

"We weren't doing anything," says the boy as he rubs his head, no doubt the sore spot caused by the collision of his skull with the unidentified flying object. Triakis looks at the ground and notices that the object is a sandwich.  
"What's your problem, Sphyrna?" asks the girl as she sticks her chin out defiantly. "We were just getting to know the new kid."  
"I'll tell you what's wrong," growls Sphyrna, and in that moment Triakis sees a striking resemblance with her older brother. "You and your dumbfuck lackey better get out of my sight, or I won't be throwing just sandwichs in your stupid faces. You got me?"  
"What, you think you scare us?" replies the girl, and Triakis notices that the boy isn't acting so sure of himself anymore. In fact, it looks like he just wants the girl to shut up and leave with him.  
Sphyrna takes a step closer, getting in the girl's face. "You want to test me? You look like you need a reminder of what it feels like to eat a desk."  
The girl seems to deflate right then and there. She shoots Triakis a strange look, then glares at Sphyrna and steps away with a disdainful sniff. The boy follows her without a word.

Sphyrna watches them go, contempt etched all over her face, before bending down to pick up the sandwich and sitting down next to Triakis.  
"Here you go," she says as she hands him the other sandwich, the one that doesn't look like it just went through hell.  
Triakis takes it, but he doesn't eat it. "Thanks, Sphyrna."  
She looks up from her sandwich and says: "I don't like them anyway. Especially Tulli."  
"Tulli?"  
"She's the annoying one. The guy's name is Hyacin." Then she smiles. "Besides, looks like even fate was with me on this one. Usually the sandwiches they sell are kinda soggy, and today they made it with hard crusted bread. It makes an amazing weapon," she giggles, and Triakis suddenly finds her extremely pretty.  
He smiles at her and says: "Thanks, anyways. I had no idea what to do."  
"Yeah," she snorts, "I could see that. You looked totally lost."  
"...I was." Triakis takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully. Then he swallows and adds, "Eat a desk?"  
Sphyrna laughs. "Yeah, once I fought with Tulli over spilling her drink and she was really getting on my nerves, so after some hair-pulling I pushed her. She slipped in the milk and ended up hitting her face against a desk." The little girl takes a bite of her sandwich. "It was pretty funny - well, it was mean, but she just went _slip_! Bonk!" Sphyrna has to cover her mouth to laugh again. "Makes me laugh every time I remember."  
Triakis' eyebrows arched. "I'm lucky I'm on your side."  
"Yeah, don't worry. I got you," answers Sphyrna with a cheerful smile.  
Triakis continues eating his sandwich, thinking to himself. He vows never to raise his hand again. He doesn't care much for being ignored by the teacher or bothered by his classmates.

Triakis lays low for the rest of the day, and besides, it seems like news travel fast in class. The students who stare at him are now in lesser numbers, no doubt because they know about how riled up Sphyrna got earlier. He doesn't try to answer, he doesn't try to attract attention to himself, and soon his first day of school is over.  
Both he and Sphyrna wait for Carcha in the schoolyard, and when he finally joins them they walk out of the gates. Sphyrna tells Carcha about how she handled Tulli and Hyacin, but she doesn't tell him Triakis was the one they were bothering, because Triakis asked her not to beforehand. He doesn't want Carcha to think any lesser about him, and he doesn't want Isurus to know about his troubles either. Not from the very beginning.  
Carcha smiles when he hears about it, and ruffles Sphyrna's hair. Triakis recognizes it as Isurus' gesture, it's the same way Isurus ruffled his own hair yesterday. The blonde smiles and it's obvious that he's proud of his sister. _Maybe I should do the same_ , thinks Triakis. Maybe that's how he can get Carcha to like him. Act strong, act fearless...  
But he can't. Triakis knows he doesn't have it in him to be like them.  
So he'll have to find another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Triakis is so adorable. Every time I write his lines I feel like hugging him, and I really really hope he has the same effect on you! I swear, I keep gushing over him, but he's my child after all so it's okay.  
> So. I've introduced the school, some of the classmates, the teacher, Sphyrna's beast mode... I think that's a pretty good summary. I really enjoyed showing that side of Sphyrna in this chapter, she's not Ka's little sis for nothing.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	8. The Notes (Triakis) - Isurus' folders

Folder category: Red Eyes  
Folder name: Triakis  
Document name: Newcomer

_I took in a red-eyed child yesterday.  
This might be the biggest mistake of my life, if the legends are all true, but it may also lead to an important discovery. It might allow us to confirm what have up till now merely been sightings. It is possible that I am the first of my kind to be able to study such an individual in this kind of setting._

_I have several suspicions about him._

_Hypotheses:  
He is a red-eyed Vision (seemed to be Dreaming when I first found him)  
He encountered a Mindbender (was bitten at the neck, teeth patterns match)_

_Counters:  
He doesn't remember his earlier trance  
His eyes weren't glowing, nor did they change color when he stopped Dreaming  
He doesn't remember what bit him_

_Hypotheses to counters:  
He may not have reached his full potential  
May be linked to the bite_

_He seems to be amnesiac. From what I can gather, he only remembers his very young childhood, I'd say from when he was a toddler.  
I've decided to make him part of the family. Completely. His name follows our tradition: Triakis._

_He seems to have a sharp mind and (aside from the amnesia) a good memory. Seems to harbour natural curiosity and a great interest in botanics. If I make him follow the same education as the siblings, he could have a purpose even at a later age and be able to work with us._

_He seems to have a shy, sensitive and rather submissive personality.  
If he is indeed a Vision (it is possible for him to have red eyes without having any kind of power), then it could allow us not only to study red eyes but also Visions. It would be killing two birds with one stone.  
However, we need to keep in mind that if the legends are true, red-eyed Visions are not the same as regular Visions. It could be dangerous to upset him._

_There is no doubt the Elder will catch wind of this, and soon, according to Tessella._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	9. The Routine

As the weeks pass, Triakis comes to understand several things concerning his new family.

Just as Sphyrna said, Isurus does indeed spend most of his time at home in his study. Sometimes he even eats there alone, and the three children have their supper in the kitchen without him. Triakis hasn't gone back inside the study ever since last time. He does remember that the walls were covered with a soft velvety fabric the shade of dark green, that there were a lot of bookshelves lining both sides of the room, a bench which stood along the wall to his right when he'd stepped inside, and a wide arched window on the furthest wall, coupled with rows and rows of drawers at each side. There was Isurus' desk under the window, with a big wooden chair behind it. Triakis remembers there was a lamp on the desk, gold and crimson. He doesn't remember what the view outside the window was like, but he's sure it was a beautiful one. The sea, probably, with its small boats and soaring birds and majestic sunsets. That's what Triakis sees when he sits in the grass outside to gaze at the darkening waves after school, under the evening sky, right below that window.

Isurus ties his lost strands of hair in a braid, at the base of his neck. He laces them with threads of blue and gold, hues which match the gilded ring on his earlobe. It glimmers with each ray of sunshine it catches, and Triakis finds himself wondering if he could try that for himself one day. For now, he's too scared of getting his ear pierced. It sounds painful.  
Isurus often wears loose clothes, because he likes being comfortable. The colors he dresses in are often pale green, or light blue. Triakis thinks it goes well with the man's calm and patient personality.

Carcha is totally different from his uncle. He doesn't like staying in the house as much, and spends most of his spare time outside, either sitting in front of the house or climbing down the cliff to reach the waves down below. When he comes home, he's always covered in sweat from running or working out, and he often brings back fish or crabs he caught with nets he made himself.  
He and Isurus regularly leave the house together for several hours, at least twice a week, and Triakis still hasn't managed to find out where to. He doesn't think he's supposed to anyway.

It also seems like the blue-eyed boy isn't warming up to him any time soon. Carcha doesn't initiate many conversations with Triakis, and whenever he does, it's to make fun of him: sometimes he simply calls Triakis girly, other times he tries to provoke him and get Triakis to fight back. Carcha isn't cruel to him, however, nor does it ever go too far, so Triakis is fine with it.  
The rest of the time, they only talk if Sphyrna or Isurus are there as well. Triakis understands that Carcha doesn't want the two of them to get close.  
Despite Carcha acting so cold towards him, Triakis knows there's more to him than his bad behaviour, so he doesn't judge the boy for that. He prefers his judgement to be based on what Carcha likes, about how he interacts with others, about how he shoots a dirty look to those who insult Triakis for the color of his eyes, about how he gives the lone town dogs a small part of his meal in secret, about how he laughs sometimes, about how dedicated he is to keeping himself in shape, about how he grumbles when someone asks him to help but ends up doing it anyways, about the cuts and scratches and bumps he often sports from getting into fights, about how he argues with Sphyrna almost every day. Each trait that Triakis observes about Carcha is a streak of color, and the whole makes up a colourful portrait of the boy, even if it is hidden behind his indifferent facade. 

Sphyrna, despite being the youngest, is the one Triakis respects the most between the two siblings. She always knows everything about anything, and Triakis never fails to be amazed by her immense knowledge. Sometimes she disappears off to who-knows-where, alone, and comes back holding books or strange objects that neither Carcha nor Triakis understand the use of. Isurus doesn't disapprove of her bringing back stuff, and it seems he knows what the stuff in question is, but he does warn her all the time to be careful when she wanders around town alone. She systematically laughs it off, not really heeding Isurus' words.

She and her uncle once ended up having a discussion in the kitchen. Triakis and Carcha were hanging out in the living room across the corridor, next to the main door, so they weren't able to listen in on the conversation. When it was over, the man opened the kitchen's door and the little girl walked out. Triakis could see them from where he was sitting.  
She seemed happy, but Isurus looked a bit grim.  
Sphyrna walked up to her brother and smiled at him. To Triakis, it seemed like Carcha suddenly understood something. The blonde boy got off the couch and grabbed his sister by the arm, dragging her out of the living room. She told Triakis they'd come back quick. He waited. They did come back, but it felt like something had changed between them, and Triakis didn't know what. They didn't tell, and he didn't ask.

Triakis knows something about her which he's surely not supposed to. He saw her hiding something in her pillow once. It was thin, and straight, and had the glint of metal. He prefers not knowing what it is exactly, but he thinks it may be linked to how carefree she is when she walks out alone.

Triakis knows that his family is hiding a lot of secrets from him. He also knows that they think he truthfully is unsuspecting, because he never asks anyone about anything concerning those secrets. They probably think he is too naive to figure it out, or too blind to see anything. Triakis is very observant: he just keeps his observations to himself.

School is interesting to Triakis; however, it bores Carcha and Sphyrna. It's not for the same reasons, and they don't show it in the same way.

Carcha's bored because he doesn't like sitting still for hours on end doing things that don't interest him. He hates maths, and he's always in a sour mood whenever he comes out of one of those periods. Most of the time, he gets in trouble for the way he acts: "Never pays attention", "His grades could be a lot better if he took the time to work", "The only thing he's good at is yawning", so on and so forth. His sister told Triakis that Isurus used to get mad at him whenever he saw the comments written by the older boy's teacher on the report card. Now he's so used to it, he's stopped spending time and energy on trying to correct his nephew's headstrong, disrespectful behaviour outside of home. Despite all that, Carcha follows Isurus' second rule: attend school.

Sphyrna doesn't.  
Once Triakis is used to school, she starts skipping school fairly often, and Triakis is pretty sure Isurus knows. He probably doesn't care as much as he would if it were the boys, because despite her lackluster attendance record, she's a lot smarter and knowledgeable then they are. She also seems to already know what the lesson is about whenever she does come to school with them. The teacher doesn't get her in trouble for her absences, because they have some kind of deal. As long as Sphyrna has the best results, the teacher won't say anything. Triakis likes their teacher. She's a very reasonable adult.

In class, Triakis keeps being ignored by the teacher ever since the first time he raised his hand to answer, but he doesn't mind. He likes what they do in class. It's fine if he can't raise his hand to answer, if he can't go to the board to show he understands, if no one cares if he's got the answer right or wrong.  
Sphyna finds it unfair, but he understands why the teacher acts that way. She has the pressure of fourty young pairs of eyes onto her every day. Forty pairs of eyes which belong to fourty children. Fourty children who each have two parents. Parents who could cause trouble to the teacher for acting nice with the red-eyed child. So he tells Sphyrna not to say anything to Carcha or Isurus.  
Besides, the teacher isn't ignoring him completely. On written papers, she adds a small comment here and there that shows she appreciates Triakis' work, that she knows he works hard, that she knows he exists, and that's enough to make Triakis happy.

Of course, it's not always smooth sailing.

Triakis runs into trouble now and then, but it never gets too bad because he doesn't fight back. There are three students in his class who seem to particularly like bothering him.  
The older one is Hyacin, son of the local carpenter. His mother works in a sowing shop. His family gets by pretty easily, but for some reason Hyacin doesn't like his parents. Triakis sees him fight with them sometimes, when they come pick him up. He's got good grades, a bulky build, an unattractive face and not much success with girls.  
He is Tulli's acolyte. Triakis doesn't know much about her besides the fact that she's pretty and that she knows it. No one comes pick her up at the end of the day, she leaves with her friends. However, he does know she has a crush on Carcha. She's always shooting him smiles at recess. Triakis asked Carcha about it, once, and even if Carcha didn't answer straight, Triakis gathered the boy didn't care about Tulli. At all. As in, he didn't give a crap. Sometimes Tulli resembles Sphyrna; a bit sly, and knows a lot of things about a lot of people. However, Tuli enjoys hurting others with her words, which isn't Sphyrna's thing.

The younger boy that likes to bring Triakis trouble is Balthazar. It's well known in school that he has an abusive father, abroken home and very violent tendencies. That, coupled with freckles, good looks, detentions, and strength, are what make Balt who he is. A lot of girls have their eye on him. Triakis soon comes to understand that handsome and bad is what makes ladies swoon. Triakis is pretty sure that Balt could get good grades if he tried, and that he's not just a brute.

Triakis isn't the only target to those three, but they obviously enjoy making his life harder. None of them are stupid, either. They learned their lesson the first day Triakis came to school: don't bother the red-eyed kid when Sphyrna is there.  
Which means that whenever Sphyrna skips class, they jump on the occasion. Sometimes it's name calling. Other times it's blaming him for things he hasn't done. Balt cuffs him over the head when the teacher isn't looking, or pushes him out of his way if they cross paths, or shoves him against desks or walls whenever he feels like it. Strangely enough, Balthazar never punches Triakis in the face. Triakis suspects the boy might be scared by the color of his eyes, as Balthazar doesn't make any direct eye contact with him if he can avoid it.

Balthazar seems to like beating up other students better, like Talbin. Triakis has heard before that Balthazar and Talbin go way back, that they used to know each other as friends when they were little, and that their relationship went wrong at one point.  
Talbin isn't like Triakis. When Balthazar starts getting violent him, he doesn't just let it happen: he fights back. He's not taller nor smaller than Balthazar, there's nothing that makes him particularly stand out as weak or annoying, yet Balt always ends up picking him out of the bunch and it systematically goes down the same way: Balt provokes Talbin, Talbin punches Balt, Balt tackles Talbin to the ground, they wrestle and yell horrible things at each other until Talbin bleeds or a teacher intervenes.  
Talbin goes to the nurse's at least once a week. He's a loner, much like Balt. He doesn't have friends.  
Triakis once tried to help him up after the fight was over, but Talbin pushed him away. He looked disgusted by the red-eyed boy's touch, and he didn't even say anything. He just stared at Triakis like he was a dirty thing and then left.

Triakis doesn't tell Sphyrna or Carcha about all of this when he can help it, and he definitely never tells Isurus. He can handle it by himself. It's not too terrible. It doesn't go too far.  
The name calling he can ignore.  
The blame he can take.  
It's just violence he has some difficulty with. He really dislikes pain, so it's hard having Balt in his class. Triakis could hold a grudge against Balthazar, but on the rare occasions when he looks the boy in the eye, when they exchange gazes, he thinks there might be something there, something serious and hurt. Whenever that happens, Balt gets angry and hits him harder.

Tulli and Hyacin aren't as physical, although they sometimes push him into people or things, or trip him up, and pretend they didn't do it on purpose. Triakis has never seen anything in their eyes except malice. They like playing twisted tricks on him. When they're bored, they get creative. Throwing pieces of erasers at him, or pulling at strands of his hair, or poking him in the back, because of course, they find a way to sit next to him or behind him almost every time.  
Although it seems like Hyacin is the one in command, Triakis knows the one truly holding the reins is Tulli, because Hyacin likes her. It's not that big of a secret, and everyone thinks that Tulli doesn't know.  
Triakis once saw Tulli tearing a bug apart piece by piece. He didn't stay there long.  
He once saw Hyacin lift a snail off the path and put it out of harm's way, in some bushes lining the walls. He didn't stay there long, either.

The other students don't mind him, or they only bother him on occasion: sometimes it's to vent steam because of bad grades, annoying teachers, or just to pass the time. Sometimes it's sending a paper plane across the room, or exchanging notes, or making noise, and whenever they get caught say "it was Triakis".

In short, it's bullying.

Triakis is calm. He doesn't like making waves, really doesn't, so he's fine with them crashing down on him. He doesn't try changing anything. He tells himself that whatever he does, it'll come back round one way or another.  
He's passive.  
A bit too submissive, he knows. But he can't change that.

There are some students who never bother him, but they don't try being friends with him either. To them, he's invisible. Or a menace. Whatever it is they think he is, they avoid interacting with him in any way. So when Sphyrna isn't there, Triakis feels a bit lonely. When that happens, he concentrates on the lesson at hand and tries to forget about it.

Whenever Sphyrna catches anyone giving Triakis a hard time, she tells them off with very convincing threats. Carcha isn't as protective of Triakis, although it can happen at times.  
There's one day when Carcha gets in a fight with one of the kids in the schoolyard at recess, partly because of Triakis but mostly because Carcha already has some history with that boy, and hearing him call Triakis a "red-eyed bitch" is what sets him off that day. Of course, Carcha wins the fight. Carcha always wins the fights.

Another part of his routine is going to the market with Sphyrna or Carcha or both at the same time. Isurus doesn't come with him to the market again, so Triakis understands that the last time they went together was an exceptional occurence.  
The first time Triakis is allowed to go to the market again, Isurus tells him to go with the siblings. Unsurprisingly, Triakis can't help himself from trailing a little bit behind, still fascinated by everything the place had to offer. Carcha has to turn around every so often to tell him to hurry up, and Triakis has to run to catch up.  
When he goes with Sphyrna alone, she hangs back with him instead of advancing like her brother does, so he feels like he can enjoy the market better.  
When he goes there with Carcha, the blonde has to pull him by the arm to draw him away from several shady or useless traders. Carcha soon grows tired of dragging Triakis along, so he stops trying to make him go faster and instead buys what they need ahead of the red-eyed boy while letting him linger in front of some of the tents. The blonde glances over his shoulder regularly to see if Triakis is following, and sometimes calls for him so he can take one of the bags of groceries when it becomes too heavy for the blonde to carry on his own.

Usually Isurus gives them a list of groceries and they find what they need on their own. The list typically consists in beef, fish, oranges, apples, teas, herbs, dairy products like goat cheese and milk, spice candy, and occasionally a whole chicken or pheasant. Isurus always gives them some extra coins so they can buy themselves some treats.  
Sometimes they loiter in the clothes and furniture market, and Sphyrna always leaves them at some point to go look at the few tents selling books and "magic". When that happens and Carcha isn't there with them, Triakis stands back and watches her study the objects, not really understanding why she's interested in those but still curious about it. When he asks her why she goes there, she tells him he wouldn't understand.

Then there's the old man he visits once a week to clean his house. From what he's gathered, this man used to be someone important to Isurus, a very old acquaintance. Isurus feels indebted to him so he sends one of his children to go clean the man's house and run his errands on regular basis, because the man is getting too old to do it on his own. His name is Sûl, but Triakis just calls him na'ar. He's a widowed man, and he doesn't have any children, so he's pretty lonely. He doesn't even have a pet.  
Triakis likes the old man, because he tells stories that the boy likes listening to, so it doesn't take long for Triakis to suggest going there in Carcha and Sphyrna's stead. Isurus doesn't see anything wrong with that, in fact he trusts Triakis more than the siblings to actually care about the old man, so he accepts. The old man has a bit of trouble with Triakis' eyes at first, but when he sees how dedicated the boy is to making his life easier, he starts reciprocating Triakis' appreciation and their relationship soon becomes friendlier. Triakis asks him about the red eyes stories people tell their children, so that he can understand what exactly it is that people fear about his eyes. The old man doesn't need to be asked twice to start the tales, and the boy is appalled yet fascinated by those stories. He starts understanding why red eyes are scary here, and what Tulli meant when she asked him about the "bad things".

Triakis once tells him about his project to free the birds in the cages at the market place, and the old man chuckles.  
"You don't have to buy them to free them. Just do it when no one is looking."  
"But there are so many people! What if I get in trouble?"  
"It wouldn't be unusual for Isurus to see one of his kids get in trouble."  
"...But with my eyes, it could be worse than for Carcha or Sphyrna."  
The old man shrugs and tugs on his pipe. "Maybe. You won't know if you don't try."  
Triakis looks down and after a short moment of reflexion, he starts cleaning the window again.

That day, before leaving, the old man stops him and holds out his clenched hand, waiting for Triakis to do the same. When the boy reaches out, Sûl drops a coin in his hand.  
"Here you go. For your birds."  
Triakis looks at him in surprise. The old man smiles at him and adds, "You'll use this money well, won't you?"  
The boy nods gratefully and slips the coin in his pouch, and then the old man sends him back home.  
After that, the old man starts giving him a coin each time he comes to help, and soon Triakis has enough to free his first bird. It's the same species as the one he saw when he came to town with Isurus, a pale lavender bird with vivid curled tail feathers the color of a late sunset. When he opens the door to the cage, the bird flies out almost instantly, and the flapping of its wings blows Triakis' hair back as he watches it go.

It starts becoming another habit of his, freeing birds, as does learning more about the varieties of teas that exist in this town, and the use of medicinal herbs that can be found nearby, right outside its walls. Isurus doesn't have much time to show him where exactly he can find those, but the man promises he'll find the time to teach him botanics when Triakis is older. For now, Triakis has to make do with the books in the living room and in the library.

Reading books is another kind of ritual his family has; every sunday afternoon, after going to the market, the siblings rest in the library and read. The library is a big room upstairs, its walls lined with bookshelves with books and cushions littering its rugged floor. There are four wooden pillars supporting the ceiling, and a ladder to help them reach the books on the top shelves. Triakis comes to appreciate that moment of the week very much, because it's calm and peaceful and it's the one time when he's sure to spend time with both of the siblings. Triakis, of course, likes to read about botanics, but he also likes fairytales and legends. Sphyrna reads books that look a bit too complicated for him, but the few words that make sense to him usually talk about spells and witchcraft. She also read fairytales and legends, but when she does, it doesn't look like she enjoys it the way Triakis does, it's more like she's studying them. The older of the three usually sits a bit further away from them both and reads manuals and guides about survival, camping, wildlife, traps, weapons, that kind of thing. He never touches stories, and Triakis tells himself that being older must be very boring.

As weeks and months pass by, Triakis sees his reflection in the bathroom mirror getting healthier, and even if his body is less thin, his bruises gone and his whole self in a better shape, the outline of the bite is still there. It's faded, but he'll probably wear that scar for a while, especially with the way it contrasts against the paleness of his skin, so when he's supposed to go outside he usually wears clothes that are close to his neck to hide it. He doesn't want it to attract any more attention than his eyes already do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I'm going to start studying for my exams pretty soon (real studying) so I'm going to reduce the number of stories I'm writing for now, and you migh not get another update for Tea Leaves and Roselite during two months. Fear not, I'm not abandoning this story, just taking a break from it for a while because I've really accumulated work these past weeks and I need to get my ass moving before it's too late to catch up with all of it.  
> Triakis, Carcha, Sphyrna and Isurus will be back soon, don't worry :)  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	10. The Tale of Fanac - Isurus' folders

Folder category: Red Eyes  
Folder name: Legends  
Notes: Old tale about how a fennec was the one to give a human red eyes. Translation by Isurus Dalafanghi, may be a bit off from the original content.

_The Tale of Fanac_

_A long time ago, when the whole world was covered in sand, there lived Fanac.  
Fanac was the smartest and smallest of foxes. Life in the desert was difficult, and Fanac had to protect her children. Her husband had disappeared a long time ago, killed _ [trapped, fatally wounded] _by a hunter, leaving her and her children to fend off the dangers of the desert on their own._

 _One day, Fanac made a deal_ [exchange of promises] _with a woman. Fanac promised the woman that if she brought enough food for them to survive the four seasons, then Fanac would bless her with luck and a healthy baby boy_ [male offspring] _._

 _The woman was overjoyed, for she had never been able to have a child_ [offspring] _. The woman promised Fanac she would do as told, and upon returning home, she hid away part of her meal to give it to Fanac and her children._

_For hundreds of sunsets, the woman shared her meals with Fanac and her children. Every evening, she would sneak out of her hut and join Fanac in her den to give Fanac her share, then she would quietly return home._

_The woman became thinner, but she had great success when she sold her pots to the market and her belly soon became rounder than her roundest pot. She was lucky_ [gifted] _, and she was going to have a baby, just as Fanac had promised._

 _But the woman had a husband, and this man was cold and ruthless. He was the very same man that had hunted down Fanac's husband_ [male] _and killed_ [hunted] _him.  
The man noticed that his wife was getting thinner _ [sick] _, and he wanted to know why._

 _One night, he followed her out of their hut, armed with his hunter's bow_ [weapon] _. He followed her footsteps in the cold sand. The night was dark, but the man was a skilled hunter, and he never once lost track of his wife. Then he saw his wife step into a den, and when she came out, her hands were empty._

_The husband waited for his wife to leave, and then he stepped into the den as well._

_There, he found Fanac and her children. Before Fanac and her children could escape, the man slaughtered Fanac's children with his arrows.  
Fanac tried to fight him with all her might, but she was small and the man had a bow._

_His arrow pierced her body, and she fell. As her blood slowly spread through her sand-colored fur, in her dying_ [last] _breath, she cursed his family for betraying her._

 _The clouds in the dark sky vanished and the moon turned red, dyed_ [painted] _in Fanac's blood._

_When the man returned home, he found his wife giving birth and screaming in pain in front of their burning hut. Their home crumpled to the ground in charred ashes, as did all of their belongings, and when the man ran to his wife's side, it was too late. The woman had died giving birth to his son._

_The man picked the baby up from the ground. It was silent, but it was breathing._  
_Then the baby boy_ [male offspring] _opened his eyes, and the man saw that his son's eyes were red.  
Eyes as red as the moon above their heads._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Here is some inside lore, so that you know a bit about the legends that shape children's culture as they grow up. There will be more of this in later chapters.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	11. The Message

Time goes by and nothing of note happens until one day, Isurus hears the children calling his name from the other side of the house. Hearing light, hurried footsteps nearing his room, he raises his head, the paper on his desk momentarily forgotten, and gets out of his chair to go and see what the commotion is about.  
When he opens his door, Sphyrna appears in front of him and immediately grabs him by the sleeve to tug him out of his study.  
"What is going on?" he inquires, a bit taken aback by his niece's forceful behaviour.  
"We were in the living room and we heard a tapping sound on the window and when we turned around, there was a bird on the windowsill, and it's a messenger! It's a green cicadel with a little piece of paper tied around its foot, what does it mean when it's that bird, Uncle Isu?"  
Isurus doesn't answer right away. A green cicadel... It must be the Elder. It was bound to happen. 

He lets the little girl pull him along and says: "Well, it's surely a message from work. Where are the others?"  
"Only Triakis was with me, he went outside to see if the bird needed some kind of care after its trip while I went to get you," she replies.  
The man smiles. Of course Triakis would do that.

They soon join the black-haired boy outside, and Triakis turns around with the bird in his hands when he hears their footsteps. He walks up to the man and hands him the rolled-up piece of paper he untied from the bird's leg, and all the while he gently cradles the cicadel close to his chest. Isurus takes the tiny scroll and peers at the bird nestled in his child's arms.  
"Thank you, Triakis. How is the bird doing?"

The boy looks down at the bird he's holding. It's an average-sized bird, larger than the usual species of cicadel, but then again green cicadels were created by Scholars to be more resistant, so that they could survive long trips. The bird doesn't look injured in any way, but the way it nestles in Triakis' arms is a clear indicator that it is exhausted.

Triakis looks back up at Isurus with a concerned expression. "I think it's tired, Isu, can we look after it for a bit?"  
The man nods, tucking the message away. "Of course, we have a cage for messenger birds. It is in my study."  
"Oh..." Triakis looks disappointed.  
Sphyrna speaks up: "Uncle, does it _have_ to stay in the study with you?"  
The man looks at her, then at Triakis. "Well, no, it is not necessary for the bird to stay in my study..." He's about to ask the children if they think they are responsible enough to look after an animal, but he stops himself. He's not sure about Sphyrna, but surely Triakis will be able to take care of the bird consistently. After all, the boy cares so much about birds, there's no doubt he will be happy to take up the task.   
"Do you want to look after the bird?" he asks both of the children.  
They both nod enthusiastically with shining eyes.   
"Then let us go fetch the cage. I believe we should put it in Triakis' room, as there is more space there."

Sphyrna doesn't protest, although blatantly disappointed, and Triakis notices right away. As Isurus leads them back inside, the boy sets his hand on her shoulder and asks her if she wants to hold the bird too, in an attempt to comfort her. She doesn't instantly take up the offer, too proud and busy pouting, but he insists by holding the bird out to her and she ends up accepting it. The bird merely gives a quiet chirp as it is passed from one pair of arms to the other, but it doesn't seem to inconvenienced by the transition.  
 _They still train those well_ , Isurus tells himself. _Very compliant_.

Once the cage is settled in Triakis' room, Sphyrna opens the small metal door and gently pushes the slumbering bird inside, lowering it on the soft nest at the bottom of the cage that Isurus made from old scraps of fabric. The bird furrows into it and finally, his wings settle completely. The man watches the two children for a while as they gaze at the sleeping bird, mostly studying Triakis' fascinated expression, and then leaves the room. He needs to check the contents of the piece of paper, alone. He doesn't want Sphyrna to ask too many questions, although she's bound to the moment she gets bored of the bird.

He slips into his study and quietly closes the wooden door behind him, then goes to sit behind his desk. He pulls out the small, worn scroll of paper and unfolds it. The characteristic illuminations along its sides confirm his thoughts: this is from the Order.

_Isurus Dalafanghi,  
It has come to our attention that you have allowed an unusual and important situation to go unknown and unsupervised for too long, and this knowledge has aroused several suspicions within the Order about your intentions. The Elder would like you to report to his spokeperson in Cidell's Council on the twentieth of Ares at noon. Should you fail to do so, should your actions not be justified, or should your reasons not be valid, we shall send a Hunter to secure the child and bring him back to the Order in order to study his case._

Isurus stares at the light green stamp on the lower corner of the paper which proves its authenticity, his mind already simulating the differents ways the conversation between him and the spokeperson could go. He really needs to build a solid case for his actions, or Triakis won't be able to live here any longer. This was a predictable outcome, but now that it has become an urgent reality, Isurus isn't so sure he might be able to keep Triakis around after all. The Order does not like to leave things like this unattended, and especially not when said things are controlled by a lone Scholar like Isurus. He's had quarrels with them before, because he left the Order's headquarters in order to work alone. They've never approved of solitary Scholars, as they believe in collective progress more than individual work.

He sets the piece of paper down and sighs. They probably know more than him about red-eyed people like Triakis, with all the ressources they have, but he doesn't want to let go of Triakis just yet. He's still a child, and who knows what they're planning on doing with him once they get their hands on the boy.

He glances over at the calendar lying in the corner of his desk: eighteenth of Ares. Two days is a bit short for a trip to Cidell, but he should be able to make it.  
He sighs and his eyes roam around his study. No time to waste.

Isurus immediately starts packing a change of clothes, money, documents, his flask of water and after a brief moment of hesitation, some candy in case he needs to relieve some stress after the conversation. Then he hurriedly gathers some of the medicine in the emergency cabinet of his study, as well as a first-aid kit, and locks the door of the study behind him. He swiftly walks towards the kitchen to put all of the items on the table in case the children need them while he's away, then turns back to the living room to see if one of the children has climbed down yet. His niece is the only one he sees sitting on the couch, reading her notebook with a pencil in her mouth, so he warns her that he's leaving and takes the time to enunciate the usual rules and precautions to take during his leave before going for good.  
_

"Is Isurus still in his study?"  
Sphyrna looks up and sees Triakis standing in her doorway. The little girl rolls on her side and yawns, the open notebook on the bed's covers pushed away as she stretches.  
"No..." She sits up straight, cocking her head to the side. "He didn't tell you? He left for a few days."  
Triakis' face falls. "Oh."  
"So he didn't tell you." Sphyrna pushes herself off her bed. "He said he had some important business in Cidell."  
Triakis doesn't answer, but the girl can see what he's thinking. "He probably didn't do it on purpose, you know."  
"What?" asks the red-eyed boy, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.  
"You're asking yourself if he didn't tell you on purpose, right? Since he has a tendency not to tell you when he leaves."  
Triakis shakes his head. "No, no, I don't mind."  
Sphyrna isn't having any of it. "I know it troubles you. I know that face you make whenever he goes off like this, and I've seen it several times by now."  
The boy averts his eyes. "No, it's just..."  
"It's just?"  
"It's just I wish Isurus would tell me more about what he does."  
The little girl shrugs. "You'll get used to it. It happens to me all the time, too."  
"Do you know where he goes? And what he's doing?"  
Sphyrna sighs. "Nah. He never tells us anything, just that it's for work most of the time."  
"Oh, okay." Then the boy pauses, before asking: "Did he also use to leave the house often before I came to live with you?"  
Sphyrna hesitates for a bit, and her expression becomes thoughtful. "Well... now that I think about it, he's been going out a whole lot more since you're here. I wonder why...?"  
Triakis nods to himself silently.

They stay silent a bit, and then Triakis speaks again.  
"So... we're on our own then?"  
"Yeah, because you know, Carcha's old enough to look after us." Then she shrugs. "Personally, I don't think we need Carcha to watch us, but hey. Uncle's the boss."  
Triakis makes a dubious face. "But Carcha's never around during the day, so it doesn't really make a difference if he's here or not, right? I mean, he's not watching after us."  
Sphyrna shrugs. "Don't ask me, I don't get it either."  
She looks behind her then, as if stricken by thought, and then she gestures towards her notebook as she asks the boy: "Hey, have you finished your homework yet?"  
Triakis seems taken aback by the change of subject, and then he shakes his head silently.  
The little girl frowns. "Why not? I'm almost done, I wanted to play outside with you afterwards."  
She thinks she can see the beginnings of a slight blush on Triakis face when he looks away. "Um... I just... I don't understand very well."  
"Oh! If you're having troubles, I can help you!" exclaims the girl cheerily. "I'm really good at this stuff."  
"That would be nice," answers Triakis with a small, embarrassed smile. "I mean, I don't want to disturb you or anything..."  
"Nah, it's fine, don't worry," replies Sphyrna with a wave of her hand. "Just bring your stuff here- wait, no, scratch that, I think we'd be better working together on the desk in your room." She turns around again to gather her things in her arms and then jerks her chin towards Triakis. "Well, come on, let's get moving! I don't want to be doing homework all day."  
The red-eyed boy quickly steps out of the bedroom and she follows his lead.  
_

Getting a mount in the town's local stable is Isurus' next course of action, and after traveling down the slope of the cliff he heads towards the usual place. When he steps inside, the warm smell of straw and fauna surrounds him immediately. A heavily built man is tending to one of the animals, but he doesn't turn around right away and Isurus lets him finish what he's doing. After a moment, the man puts the beast's hoof back on the ground, so Isurus gently raps on the stall door to attract the man's attention. When the man looks over his shoulder, his features brighten as recognition bloom in his dark eyes.  
"Na'ar Dalafanghi, it's always a pleasure to see you here!"  
He steps out of the stall to greet the blue-eyed man with open arms. Isurus smiles and reciprocates the action, saying: "It has been a bit longer than last time. I was busy with something."  
"I take it you'd like to see your haprin again," guesses the man before gesturing Isurus towards the furthest stalls.  
"How has Eloi been?" asks Isurus as he follows the other through the stable.  
"Well, he's been well taken care of, but I think he's taken quite a liking to your frequent trips."  
"How so?"  
"He's been acting a bit impatient, and he needs to be let out more often."  
Isurus nods to himself. "I see... Indeed, three weeks must seem very long to him, considering how often I've travelled over the last few months."  
"I'd reckon so," answers the man. "The poor beast's been feeling quite lonely."

Suddenly the man stops in front of one of the stalls, and Isurus can hear shuffling and low-pitched humming coming from the other side of the door.  
"He knows you're here," says the man as he reaches for the gigantic set of keys hanging from his belt. Isurus is always impressed by the man's ability to find the key he wants in a split second.  
The scholar watches as the man turns the key in the lock and pulls open the door, and the sand-colored haprin immediately tries to stretch its neck out to nuzzle Isurus.  
"Woah there, wait a moment," exclaims the man as Eloi tries to push him out of the way to get a better view of his owner. "Still need to untie you, buddy."  
The man fumbles around with the knot next to the stall's door and as soon as the rope drops free, the haprin prances out of the stall and lets out a deep, vibrant bugle to celebrate its owner's arrival.   
"Hello there, Eloi. I am very happy to see you too," Isurus tells the animal with a smile.  
The haprin starts humming again and carefully butts his head against Isurus' chest to avoid hurting him with its spiralled brown horns.  
The scholar chuckles and pets the animal's head. "I hope you are ready to travel."  
"He's as ready as ever, I think you can tell," assures the other man as he lowers Eloi's hefty saddle on the haprin's back. He buckles the straps and makes sure the stirrups are fastened correctly, then goes to the front and opens Eloi's mouth to slip in the bit. The haprin balks a little, but the ostler quickly appeases him with calm words and gentle movements. He untangles the bridle and hands it to Isurus, who takes it in his hands, and finally closes and locks the stall.  
The ostler turns around and smiles broadly at Isurus. "Your haprin is ready to travel, na'ar."  
"I thank you for your good services," says Isurus as he reaches into his bag and takes out two gold coins. He drops it in the man's extended hand and adds: "I shall give you one more upon my return, to thank you for the good care you gave and will give my haprin."  
The stable owner nods with a grateful smile. "Have a safe trip, na'ar."  
_

Eloi is as fast as ever, both the haprin and its master traveling across land and towns at swift pace, stopping only twice to rest, and reaching the city in a day and a half. The first thing Isurus does once they reach Cidell is find a stable to let his haprin feed and sleep in peace. Once Eloi is settled and his stay paid for, the man leaves the stable to find a tavern to eat at.  
As he walks in the street, he glances inside one of the stores to check the time on the clock hanging above the counter. As he thought, he's got little time to find something to eat before heading to Cidell's Council, so he must hurry.

Isurus presses on as he head towards the Council, thinking that he may as well find a tavern close to the rendez-vous point.

The city's roads are filled with noise and commotion, haprin and bauks flooding the streets as they pull slick coaches forward. Isurus largely prefers his house standing over the sea, in quiet harmony with the tall grass that surrounds it, rather than the tall, glinting buildings of the city. Living in Cidell means living in constant proximity with loud voices, yelling in the streets and regular clopping of beast's hooves on paved roads. Holsith is a much quieter town, even with the market and the musicians. Holsith is a town Isurus greatly enjoys.

The man's gaze lands on a shabby stand selling meat-filled loafs of bread and its wiry owner, and he changes his mind. It's not worth staying in a tavern if he's this hurried. Fast eating, especially under the pressure of being late, is a waste of good food, so he decides to buy a lunch right there in the street.  
Even the people who sell things act different in the city compared to Holsith. The thin woman selling the bread has a grim face and her expression doesn't budge during the exchange. When Isurus tells her to keep the change, she looks at him with suddenly wary eyes, shaking her head in slow refusal, and Isurus smiles kindly at her when he sees her reaction.  
"You can keep it, my friend, I assure you. I am sure you will make good use of it."  
He doesn't wait for an answer and leaves the stand right after that, knowing that to that woman, his behaviour seems suspicious. People in Cidell rarely let clerks or traders keep such amounts of change, and when they do, it's that they expect something in return, like a free item the next time they come around or some kind of shady service.

Isurus is thankful that such corruption does not exist in his small town. This kind of manipulation is uneeded in his world and complicates things a lot more than it should, in his opinion. One of the effects he finds the the most deplorable is the sprouting of unecessary wariness and suspicion. If only people could accept generosity without thinking any bad of it, it would make their lives much, much simpler. They wouldn't be worrying about consequences all the time for things as small as change.

He takes a bite out of his piece of bread, very pleased to see that it isn't as dry as he feared and that it is, in fact, quite tasty. He knows he's not far from the council, nor from the time of the meeting, so he regretfully finishes his lunch in ten quick bites before reaching the stairs of the Council building. Had he had the luxury, it probably would've taken him thrice the time to eat the whole bun. Isurus is the kind of man who takes the time to appreciate simple things such as food.

He stands before the large building and breathes in deeply. He has to make sure to go through with this as smoothly as possible. He hopes the Scholars are not too intent on studying Triakis directly, or they might try to snatch him away.  
He rehearses his arguments mentally once more before stepping up the stairs. He dearly hopes that the Elder's spokeperson this time isn't one of his old, half-deaf and stubborn subordinates. Leading a conversation with those people is near impossible.

It's a bit of a displeasing surprise that awaits Isurus when he enters the hall. The spokeperson that the Elder has sent here is a tall, slim man of a familiar figure, one that Isurus does not appreciate very much.  
Isurus stops a few steps ahead of him. "Sphondyl."  
The tan man slightly dips his head in response. "Isurus. Long time no see. I've heard you're still residing in that dreary little town of Holsith?'  
"And you've become one of the Elder's many faces. This doesn't come as a surprise to me, considering you've always shown quite the lack of personality."  
"Spare me the formalities," answers the man with a disdainful flip of his long, blonde hair. "I simply need information to confirm or infirm your right to continue your activities. The only reason they sent me is because I specialize in Visions."  
"Of course." Isurus gestures towards the side of the hall. "Shall we have a seat to discuss this matter?"  
Sphondyl doesn't answer, nor does he make a move towards the benches lining the wall. He simply stays where he is, his hands crossed behind his back. _As proud as ever_ , sighs Isurus inwardly. _Can't be bothered to go along with others' wishes_.  
Isurus continues. "Straight to business it is, then. Where shall I start?"  
"The Elder would like to know the circumstances in which you found the specimen, what you intended to do with it, and your reasons for keeping the entire situation under covers," answers Sphondyl.  
Isurus represses a frown, but he can't help his voice sounding stern when he replies. "This isn't about an _it_ , Sphondyl."  
"I am simply transmitting the Elder's questions."  
"Triakis is a boy, a human boy. I will ask the Elder and the Order to refer to him as such."

The blonde man's eyebrow twitches when Isurus mentions the red-eyed boy by his name, but he doesn't comment about it right away and waits for the man in front of him to continue.

"I found Triakis in my town fortuitously, while I was buying groceries with my niece. He was in some kind of trance, but when I intercepted him, he broke out of it quite easily. I thought he was a Vision, but... his eyes did not change color."  
"Yes, but he has red eyes, does he not?"  
Isurus nods. "That is indeed the case."  
"Just as our Informant told us. Does he display any kind of dangerous behaviour?"  
"No, he does not. The only kind of behaviour that he has exhibited up until now is a very cooperative and quiet one."  
"Have you observed any particular signs about him?"  
"He has a bite at the base of the neck that resembles that of a Mindbender."  
The blonde man brings a hand to his chin. "Interesting... And do you think it is one?"  
"I can't be sure, but coupled with the fact that he has amnesia, it is most likely the case. However, there were no reports of mindbending a red-eyed child. I've checked the records."  
"Then it may be purely coincidence."  
"Or the work of a rogue Mindbender," says Isurus with an intent stare.  
Sphondyl's eyes flash at the man's insinuation. "Isurus, I should remind you that this kind of thing is always kept under our control. Accusing the Order of not doing its job, or the Hunters of not doing theirs for that matter, can be heavily reprimanded. You are lucky enough to be able to work on your own in Holsith, do not test our patience."  
Isurus slightly bows his head to appease the other. "It was merely a suspicion of mine, do not think too much of it. For all we know, that bite could simply be an animal's."

Isurus is convinced of the contrary, since teeth patterns like the ones on Triakis' neck are characteristic of very few species, but with things the way they are he can't allow himself to go against the Order. It could mean the loss of Triakis, and right now, keeping the boy with him is more important than knowing what happened to him.

"That would be a much wiser hypothesis," nods Sphondyl in approval. "Now tell me, what are your intentions with it- the boy? Why keep him under your protection rather than bringing him to the Tower?"

Isurus takes the time to assemble his arguments before starting his explanation.  
"I believe Triakis' situation should remain the same for several reasons, the first of which being his potential nature. I have no certainty of it, because Triakis does not display any signs of being a Vision, but we cannot possibly ignore the fact that he has red eyes and that in all of history's records, red eyes have always been associated with spirits and the like. The chances of him being a red-eyed Vision are far too great to treat him like a normal human being."

"Visions are sensitive beings. If Triakis turned out to be one, a stay in the Tower could be detrimental to his health. Simply changing guardians would have the same effect, as he has become used to living with me. With his amnesia, he feels vulnerable. He could become emotionally unstable if his settings were to change, and as I trust the Order to know, an unstable red-eyed Vision could be dangerous."

"Of course, had I immediately identified him as a Vision upon my discovery of the boy, I would have notified the Order and brought him to the Tower to curb the danger he potentially could have represented, but there has been no such sign of his nature as a Vision, and as such, no sign of the potential danger. That is why I allowed the situation to be as it is. I was planning to monitor him in a natural environment in case any signs appear. I believe it would be more beneficial to his health, and consequently to our research, if he felt the least distress possible. It was never my intention to hide the situation from you, but I thought the matter wasn't important enough to bother the Order, as Triakis has only been a normal human child until now, aside from his particular eye color."

Sphondyl stays silent for a while, staring him in the eye, and Isurus doesn't add anything to his tirade. Then the blonde man asks: "And why did you name him Triakis?"

This is more of a delicate subject to defend, but Isurus knew that the question would arise.  
"He doesn't remember his name, for his amnesia is to blame. Considering he has nowhere to go, and has no memory of his family or his home, I decided to take him in. As a normal red-eyed child, he could've easily died had he been left alone in the streets: people would have shunned him for his eye color. As a potential Vision, being part of a family is one of the most important things for a Vision's emotional stability. That is why in both cases, I thought it would be better for me to bring him home. I believed that giving him a name which followed the Mindbender tradition was a good way to integrate him in my family, and that if he grew up normally, he could play a role in our community."

"A normal human boy?" asks Sphondyl with a dubious expression. "You do realize what you are saying, do you not? How could he possibly serve our cause, should he turn out to be completely normal?"

"Triakis shows great natural curiosity towards botanics and has a very good memory, amnesia put aside. I believe he could become a talented Herbalist if taught the right way. It could prove useful to have a Herbalist in our ranks that knows of us. After all, Mindbenders who choose to participate in that line of work are rare," answers Isurus earnestly. "Average Herbalists rarely have what we want, but ones that have knowledge of both Visions and Mindbenders are exactly what we need."

The blonde man crosses his hands behind his back again, his face thoughtful as he contemplates Isurus' idea. After a small moment of reflexion, he abruptly put an end to their conversation.  
"I understand the reasons you gave me, and I will bring them back to the Elder. You shall receive another cicadel in a week's time to inform you of the Order's decision. You may now leave."

Sphondyl turns around, but Isurus stops him before he can take a step.  
"Wait, Sphondyl."  
The blonde man gives Isurus an interrogative and slightly annoyed glance. "What is it?"  
"What do you think about all of this? What do you feel, not as a spokeperson, but as yourself?"

Sphondyl gazes at Isurus with a serious expression and answers in a strong, self-confident voice: "I believe that you are neither right or wrong. Rather than giving me an explanation, you gave me excuses. What you did was foolish, as we both know that in truth you wanted to keep the child hidden from the Order, but it was for the correct reasons. Although your intentions lie in the right place, you should be careful not to try and manipulate the truth. The Order is not easily tricked, as I am sure you already know, and I do not understand why you keep attempting to deceive us. I do not intend to say this as a threat, but heed my words: you should be careful when you take such rash decisions, and tread lightly when demanded an explanation."

Isurus feels his eyebrows raise in a surprised expression and he observes: "You are being more lenient towards me than I had thought."

Sphondyl jerks his head to the side so that his long locks of hair flip over his shoulder, his expression reverting to one full of contempt. "I am merely speaking my mind, and please, do not try to see in it any attempts at establishing a friendly relationship. That interpretation would be the furthest away from the truth."

Isurus isn't taken aback by the other Scholar's forthright words, and smiles inwardly at the man's proud stature and scornful gaze. This is a much more natural situation compared to the way he was behaving just a few seconds beforehand.  
Isurus dips his head and says with a level voice: "Of course. Far be it from me the idea of making a friend out of the open-minded individual that you are."

Sphondyl notices the underlying irony to that answer, and Isurus can see a small muscle under his right eye twitch slightly at the sarcasm. Isurus feels a bit of satisfaction when he sees that he managed to make Sphondyl feel piqued by his verbal jab.

The blonde man sniffs slightly. "Then we agree on one point, at the very least."  
He gestures towards the building's large entryway and adds: "Now, I will once more ask you to leave."

Isurus dips his head and follows the direction pointed by Sphondyl's extended hand, hoping that he was convincing enough for the Elder. He tells himself that there's one positive aspect to all of this: at least Sphondyl seems to understand his reasons. With a little luck, he'll manage to correctly pass on the information to the Elder.

When Isurus steps out of the Council building and off the last step, he takes a deep breath and breathes out slowly, pulling his shoulders back and watching the sun's position in the afternoon's blue sky. If he rests a few hours and goes as fast as he did on the way here, he estimates he'll be home the next day, by the middle of the night. 

He starts walking in the noisy street, towards the usual inn, and his thoughts go out to Triakis. He hopes that the red-eyed boy will be able to stay with them for a good while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I'm sorry for taking so long between updates, but I finally completely wrote out this chapter and it's time I posted it!  
> Sphondyl is a jerk, but he does his job well.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	12. The Reply

"Come on, Triakis, try a little harder. It's not that difficult!" exclaims Sphyrna, throwing a hand in the air. "I know maths aren't your thing, but you're seriously bad at this!"  
The boy at her side sighs in frustration and drops his pen on the piece of paper filled with operations and crossed-out numbers. He holds his head in his hands and says in a forlorn voice: "I know, you don't have to tell me that. It's not like I haven't realized it already."  
Sphyrna instantly feels remorseful of her harsh words and says: "Sorry. I take it back."  
Triakis shrugs. "You can't. You already said it."

The girl leans back, straightening out her legs under their desk. "Well I didn't mean it. Besides, you're really good at everything else! Everybody's got a weak point."  
Triakis sighs again. "But I'm not just weak at maths, I'm really, really bad."  
"Hey, some people are like that," she answers with a smile. When she sees that Triakis isn't in the mood to lighten up, she pushes her chair back and gets up, gesturing towards the window. "Maybe we should go outside, it's not like we're going anywhere with this. Let's grab something to eat and bring the cicadel out, it probably wants some fresh air."  
Triakis looks up, a small, concerned frown appearing on his face. "But what about my homework?"  
She waves his question away. "Just ask Carcha when he gets back, he's better at explaining things than me." Then she grabs the boy by the arm, pulling his hand away from his head. "Come on! Get up, let's go."  
Triakis glances down at the paper, but he ends up surrendering and stands up as well. He's not completely free of doubt, however, and as they walk over to the cage in his bedroom he observes: "But Carcha doesn't like being disturbed..."  
"Psh, no one like getting disturbed, what makes him so special?" says the girl with the signature disdainful shrug she has every time they talk about Carcha. She lifts the cage off the small table and hands it to him. "He'll act all rough and tough, but in the end he'll help you, so don't worry about that."

They make their way to the bottom of the stairs, Triakis holding the birdcage, and Sphyrna walks into the kitchen. He waits at the table for her to take out the bread and the chocolate, as well as some peaches, and then they both head outside.

Sphyrna sits down in the grass and lowers the food to her side while Triakis bends down to set the cage on the ground. The boy opens the small metal door, and then takes a step back and sits down next to her. She hands him his piece of bread and chocolate, and they both eat their snack as they watch the cicadel ruffle its wings in a lazy stretch. Then the bird peeks out of the cage, its small brown eyes gazing curiously at the scenery, before it hops down on the grass.  
The two children watch it strut around and flutter about until they both finish their peaches, and then Sphyrna says: "I wonder how cicadels are trained. Do you think it would stay perched on my arm if I put it there?"  
Triakis gazes at the bird thoughtfully. "...I don't know. You could always try."  
"Do you want to try first?" asks Sphyrna, a proposition which isn't due to a sudden altruistic streak, but to the uncertainty of this actually working. She's not so sure it will go as planned and would prefer Triakis to be the one left in an embarrassing position, should the bird decide not to cooperate. She likes making fun of others, not being made fun of.

Triakis glances at her with a small smile. He isn't dupe, and knows very well why she's being so generous all of a sudden. He shrugs and says: "Sure, why not?"  
"Go on, go on," she urges him, so he gets to his feet and brushes a few strands of grass off his pants while watching the bird walk towards them. He doesn't know if the bird will be fine with being picked up in the first place. It was tired last time, so it was easy picking him up, but now that it's in perfect shape it might not be as simple.

He takes a few steps towards the bird and then gets down on one knee, reaching out towards the bird with an extended finger. The bird hops up to him and then stops, cocking its head like it's confused by the boy's behaviour.  
They both stay like this for a while, and Sphyrna's voice rises from behind him: "Are you going to stay like that all day? What are you doing?"  
"Do you have a better idea?" retorts Triakis.  
"I don't know, try to grab him or something!"  
"I'm not doing that," he mutters. He's pretty sure most animals hate it when someone tries to grab them, and even if this cicadel seems very well trained, he doesn't think it would like that.

He hears Sphyrna rise from the ground and walk closer to him and the bird. She kneels down next to him and beckons the bird closer with a soft voice: "Come on, little guy. Hop on that finger, come on."

The bird cocks its head in another direction, but its eyes never leave Triakis. It doesn't look like it wants to pay attention to the little girl, instead focusing entirely on the boy's face.  
_Maybe it's my eyes_ , he thinks. _Even animals are curious about them._  
Sphyrna speaks his thoughts out loud. "Huh, it looks like it's really interested in you. Maybe it's your eye color?"  
Before he has the time to answer, she adds: "But do birds even see the same colors as us? ...And do birds act curious about that kind of thing in the first place?"  
Triakis closes his mouth. Maybe it isn't about his eyes after all.

Then the bird straightens its head in a normal position, hops up to the boy's hand, climbs onto the extended digit and settles there.  
Sphyrna's eyes grow round and she says: "Wow. It worked."  
Triakis is as surprised as she is. "...I didn't think it would."  
He tries lifting his hand off the ground and slowly stands up, feeling the bird's small claws tighten around his finger as it manages to keep its balance while he straightens.  
"It's staying!" exclaims Sphyrna giddily. "That's so cool!"  
Triakis' lips curl upwards in a happy smile as he says: "Yeah."

"My turn," says Sphyrna after they experiment a bit with walking around, sitting down, standing up, raising an arm and lowering it with the bird still holding onto the boy's finger.  
Triakis halfheartedly does as she says and lowers the bird to the ground, gently pushing it off with the back of his other hand when it doesn't seem to want to relinquish its grip on his finger. It hops down, and then turns around, staring at them.  
Sphyrna gets into the same position as Triakis did earlier and extends her finger, waiting for the bird to climb on.

However, instead of hopping up to her, the bird turns around and returns to walking around his cage.  
"Hey!" she cries out indignantly. "Come back here!"  
The bird starts pecking at the grass and doesn't look back. The little girl looks up at Triakis with a dejected expression, and he starts feeling somewhat guilty.  
"Maybe it's tired of holding onto someone's finger," offers Triakis as a poorly convincing explanation.  
She frowns and looks back at the bird, muttering: "I should've gone first."  
The red-eyed boy nods. "You'll go first next time, don't worry. I'm sure it'll climb onto your finger in two seconds."  
She pushes herself off her knees and puts her hands on her hips, her eyes still shooting daggers at the cicadel. "It better."  
"It's fine, Sphyrna," says Triakis in an attempt to comfort her hurt pride. "We'll try again tomorrow."  
"Yeah, let's do that," she says.

They stand around for a while more, letting the bird stretch its wings until they decide it's time to head back inside.

Once the bird is back in Triakis' room, they return to his desk to try and pick up where they left off in the boy's math homework. They don't go very far, and when they hear the door downstairs open and shut, Sphyrna goes to get her brother. Soon, all three of them are huddled in front of the paper. Carcha acts like his usual grumpy self, and Triakis doesn't dare say anything, letting Sphyrna ask the questions in his stead.  
Suddenly, Carcha looks down at the red-eyed boy sitting on his left and says: "Hey, Triakis. It's your homework, why don't you ask the questions?"  
The boy twitches and timidly looks into the older's pale blue eyes, stuttering slightly: "Well, I uh, don't want to disturb you."  
Carcha frowns. "Disturb me? Hey, I've been through this kind of thing too, you know. I used to suck at maths."  
"You guys are mathematic morons," quips Sphyrna with a self-satisfied smile.  
"Yeah, whatever you say," says Carcha with an eye roll. For once, he doesn't try to find a comeback, probably because the insult concerns Triakis for the most part. "Anyways, Triakis, what I'm saying is that I get it if you need help for your homework, especially since Isurus isn't here. It's normal that I help you two, since I'm the oldest."  
_But you always look angry_ , thinks Triakis. He doesn't speak his mind, however, and simply nods.  
"So, _you_ be the one to tell me what you don't understand," resumes the blonde. "Come on."

So Triakis tells him. At one point, Carcha pulls the second chair back and sits down next to Triakis. Just a bit later, Sphyrna leaves the room to go read a book.  
They've almost reached the end of the assignment when Triakis hears the older boy's stomach growl. He unvoluntarily turns his gaze to Carcha, who ignores him and keeps explaining the last exercise to him.  
Triakis goes back to scribbling his answers.  
When he hears the growl a second time, he puts down his pen and says: "Carcha, if you're hungry we can eat. I understand most of it now, I can do the rest on my own."  
The blonde stares at him and asks: "Can you?"  
Triakis looks back at his paper, then at Carcha, and nods. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."  
"Good." The older boy gets out of his chair and stretches, yawning at the same time. "I'm beat, let's go eat. Then I'm hitting the hay."

When he turns back around, he notices the red-eyed boy is smiling at him.  
He lets his arms fall to his side, cocks an eyebrow and asks: "What is it?"  
Triakis seems to realize what he's doing and his eyes widen slightly. "Oh, uh, nothing. It's just... Thank you for helping me."  
Carcha shrugs. "No big deal. Don't think too much of it. Come on, let's go."  
The younger slides off his chair and follows him out of the bedroom.  
_

When Triakis gets up the next morning, he goes in the bedroom right across his to see if the siblings are awake yet. He doesn't find either of them in the unmade beds, so he climbs down the stairs to go find them in the kitchen.  
He only finds Sphyrna there. When she looks up, she smiles at him and says: "Oh, hey, lazy butt. I was wondering when you'd get up."  
He slides into a seat and asks: "Where's Carcha?"  
Sphyrna hands Triakis the piece of bread she was spreading butter on and shrugs. "Outside, I guess. He woke up before me."  
"Oh. Thanks." He bites into it, chews for a while, and swallows. "What does he do on Saturdays?"  
"I dunno, he probably goes into town to fight people or something. You know how he is."  
Triakis nods and takes another bite.  
Carcha will probably be back with new cuts and bruises, but looking like he feels great. Triakis doesn't know how he manages to like fighting and stuff like that. Why would anyone like getting hurt?

Once they finish their breakfast, Sphyrna and him decide to try again with the cicadel.  
It doesn't work, no matter how long Sphyrna stays kneeling on the ground waiting for the bird to comply. The bird walks up to her, then goes away, then back, and again it leaves her waiting.  
She finally huffs a frustrated sigh and gets back to her feet, her brow furrowed in an extremely dissatisfied expression. "Why won't that stupid bird get on my finger?"  
Triakis gives her a disapproving look. "Hey, it's not stupid. Maybe it just doesn't feel like it."  
"Yeah, I know, but still..." The anger on her face melts away and she gazes at him with suddenly disappointed eyes. "Maybe it doesn't like me?"  
"No, I don't think that's it," answers Triakis as he shakes his head. "If it didn't like you, it wouldn't even come near you."  
"Oh. How would you know that?" she asks.  
"Well, that's just normal behaviour for a bird," states the boy in a matter-of-factedly manner.  
"Then maybe it really likes you?" suggests Sphyrna. "We should try and see how it acts with Carcha and Isurus."  
"Yeah, we should do that," agrees Triakis. "It could be interesting."

When Carcha returns, Sphyrna intercepts him before he can go inside and pulls him to the side of the house to join Triakis and the bird.  
Her brother frowns when he sees the bird out of its cage and asks: "What's going on?"  
"We want to see how the bird acts when it's with you," explains the little girl. "Try kneeling down and holding out your hand, maybe it'll climb on your finger."  
"Why?"  
"Because, we want to see!"  
Carcha seems to hesitate between pleasing his sister and going against her, but he gives up when he sees the sparks of curiosity in her eyes and does as his sister tells him to.  
The bird doesn't even come close to the blonde.  
"That's what I was talking about earlier," says Triakis as he gestures towards the kneeling boy and the bird. "It wasn't this shy with you earlier, you see? So it does like you, it just doesn't want to get on your finger."  
"Wow, Ka, small animals really aren't you thing," states the girl with a small giggle.  
He rolls his eyes and stands up. "Oh, yeah, that's a surprise. Were you guys really trying to get a bird to stay on your finger? It's trained to be a messenger, not a circus bird."  
"Triakis managed it," retorts Sphyrna with a winning grin, too glad to be able to contradict her brother.  
"Huh." Carcha turns around and looks at Triakis. "Really?"  
The red-eyed boy nods, and although he feels very small under the older boy's piercing blue gaze, he can't hide that he feels proud about it.

"...That's cool."  
It's all Carcha says, but to Triakis, it comes as a big surprise. It almost sounds like words of approval. The boy is happy that Carcha finds anything he did cool.

Then the blonde turns to his sister and asks: "Can I go now?"  
Sphyrna shrugs. "Do what you want."  
Carcha takes a few steps to leave, but he suddenly stops and turns back around to ask: "Hey, Sphyrna, when's Isurus coming back?"  
"He didn't tell you either?"  
"Nah. I wasn't there when he left."  
"He said he wasn't sure, but probably tomorrow."  
"Thanks."

Then he leaves for good. Sphyrna turns to the boy next to her and says: "See? You're not the only one Isu doesn't tell."  
Triakis nods. He feels reassured.  
_

They spend Saturday afternoon in town, listening to the musicians, and Triakis watches Sphyrna join a small group of children dancing along to the catchy tune of the instruments' music. When she is finally out of breath, they leave the musicians to go and see what new drawings have appeared along the Cray Road's paved surface. Triakis brings his own piece of green cray to add a small picture of the cicadel in his bedroom, and Sphyrna draws some kind of swirly orange symbol she probably saw in one of her strange books.  
On the way back, she picks up flowers and links them together during the climb of the slope, and ends up with some kind of flowery necklace that turns out ot be a crown when she puts it on her head.  
When she asks him how good it looks, Triakis smiles at her and tells her that she's very pretty. She says she'll give him one as well one day, even prettier than this one.  
"Isn't it for girls?" he asks.  
She shrugs. "As long as you look pretty with it, I don't think it's important for who it is."  
"Fair enough," he answers.  
That evening, Carcha cooks them soup and a bit of beef.

On Sunday, they stay home, even Carcha. He's only gone for two hours in the early morning, when it's not too hot outside. Sphyrna and Triakis play games, while the oldest makes some kind of leather accessory on the couch next to them.

They stay up very late waiting for Isurus to return, until Triakis starts falling asleep despite his best efforts not to. Carcha shakes him awake in a surprisingly gentle manner, and tells him he should go to bed. The red-eyed boy nods, and then Sphyrna yawns, so Carcha tells her to go upstairs as well. Both of the children know that they're too tired to try and go against Carcha, so they climb up the stairs without protesting.  
Carcha finishes threading the last details into his wrist protection before Isurus makes an appearance, and he himself falls asleep without realizing it.

Isurus is the one to shake him awake, and Carcha blinks away his sleepiness as he sits up on the couch. His uncle looks tired too.  
Carcha asks: "Where did you go this time?"  
"I had business to take care of."  
"About Triakis?"  
Isurus doesn't hesitate long. "...Yes. Do not tell him, please."  
"I won't. But I'd like it if you told me when you left," says his nephew in a reproachful whisper.  
"It was urgent business. I received the message a bit late."  
"Oh, so that's why there's a cicadel here. I get it, you couldn't tell me because I wasn't there." The boy yawns and rubs his eyes. "By the way, the others waited for you too, but in the end they got too sleepy."  
"I see," smiles Isurus. "I shall tell them thank you as well, then. It was nice of you to wait for my return. Did everything go well?"  
"Yeah. They had a lot of fun with the bird. Oh, that reminds me..." The boy is briefly interrupted by another yawn before he resumes speaking. "...Have you ever tried to carry a green cicadel on your finger?"  
Isurus looks a bit confused by the question. "Ah, no, they are not trained for that. They are mostly trained to be compliant and to follow trajectories, but not to the point of doing tricks and the like."  
"Yeah, I know, and that's what I thought too, but Triakis managed it. According to Sphyrna, the bird wouldn't let go of his finger without a push."  
"Really?" Isurus mentally adds the new fact to the list of unordinary things about the red-eyed boy. However small the importance of it may be, nothing should go unnoticed. "That is quite the impressive feat."  
"Sure is. Other than that, they went in town Saturday afternoon, and today we stayed home."  
"Even you?"  
"Even me. I just went to train early in the morning, then it got too hot."  
"I see. Thank you for telling me all of this."  
"No problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go sleep."  
"Of course."

Isurus steps aside to let his nephew get off the couch, watches his receding back as the blonde trudges out of the living room and listens to him climb up the stairs.  
Then the man falls wearily across the couch, letting his worn body sink into the cushions. He'll have to cross-reference that bird story with the data he has on Visions.  
Isurus closes his eyes.  
In truth, all he really needs is a positive reply from the Elder.  
_

The next day, he tells the children that he's proud of them for being so well-behaved during his leave, just as he always does when he comes back. He also tells the two younger ones that they'll have to set the cicadel free before they go to school.  
Their sad expressions aren't enough to make him change his mind- after all, the cicadel isn't theirs- and they finally accept his proposition to do it themselves rather than letting Isurus do it, so that they can properly say goodbye to the bird.

Surprisingly enough, Carcha escorts them outside to watch the bird's departure.  
Isurus ties a small paper to the bird's leg before handing it to the children, as a messenger bird doesn't leave without an answer. At first, Sphyrna reaches out for the bird, but then she changes her mind and tells Triakis to take the bird.  
"He likes you better," she says with misty eyes.  
Triakis' eyes aren't any drier, but he complies and takes the bird in his hands. Isurus notices how the bird seems to be fascinated by the boy, its head cocked and unmoving as it gazes at Triakis. He also notices that when Triakis lifts it towards the sky so that it can fly away, it stays just a moment too long in his hands before unfolding its wings and leaving the child's hands, as if reluctant to leave the boy behind.  
Strange behaviour indeed... Carcha was not wrong to mention this to him. Messenger birds shouldn't get so attached to the people they bring messages to, especially if it's over the mere course of three days. It could be that the bird is the strange one in this story, but one can never be too cautious. Isurus will have to see if this happens again when he receives an answer to his request.

Isurus doesn't need to wait a week to receive the Order's next message, and this time, he's the one to notice the messenger bird's arrival. He hears pecking at his window, and swivels around his chair, his gaze landing on a green cicadel standing on the windowsill.  
He hurriedly opens the window and gathers the bird in his hands, which is in noticeably better shape than the one the Order sent before. Then again, there had been some storms on the last one's way, which could explain this.  
Isurus closes the window, unties the piece of paper from the bird's leg, places the considerably bigger scroll than the one they received last time on his desk, and then steps out of his study to place the bird in the cage that remained in Triakis' room. The children are still at school, so the bird will be a nice surprise for them when they come back.

Then the man goes back to his study to read the message.

_Isurus Dalafanghi,_  
_This message is a follow-up to your meeting with the Elder's spokeperson._  
_I. It has been decided that your arguments were solid, although your reasoning could be found faulty in several aspects. As a result, you are allowed to keep the specimen in the natural environment you spoke about, but there is one condition: you are required to send a report on the twentieth of each month about the specimen's behaviour, in which you shall mention any changes that you will have noticed._  
_II. As such, you are allowed to keep this messenger bird until the next twentieth. The Order has not yet decided if you would be assigned a messenger bird, but you will be made aware of it once you get the reception confirmation for your first report on the specimen._  
_III. Your town's Informant was told to keep a close eye on the specimen as well, so that the situation may be monitored by a third party._  
_IV. This is your last warning: if you try to go behind the Order's back again, you will be punished._

Isurus lowers the small piece of paper and rubs his eyes with one hand. Then he breathes out slowly. He's half-relieved by the fact that Triakis can stay, and half-annoyed by the fact that the Order clearly won't consider the boy as... well, a boy.  
At any rate, this is mostly a good thing. Triakis stays here, which means Isurus can continue his research and can study him in peace and quiet, all the while keeping the child safe.

For maybe the only time in his life, Isurus feels like thanking Sphondyl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> It took me some time before I had the idea of Triakis unvoluntarily domesticating the cicadel, but when I did I found it really cute, so I hope you did as well. Sphyrna is jealous, obviously, who wouldn't be?  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	13. The Fisherman

The inside of the house slumbers quietly as day slowly becomes evening, its rooms still and silent save for the library. Pages flutter, light fingers rifling through a book, and the sun's golden rays spill into the room through the closed windows, highlighting the rows of high shelves. The light pools along the walls and on the floor, trickling down the rug until it finally reaches the spot where rest Triakis' two bare feet. The boy slowly notices the warm feeling of the sun tickling his skin, and he drifts out of the story he's reading to look up and stretch out his legs. Once the light covers not only his feet, but also his shins and knees, he goes back to reading his book.  
No one else is home besides him. Isurus left the house this morning and said he'd return late at night, without saying why, and both of the siblings are out. Carcha didn't say where he was going, unsurprisingly, and Sphyrna said she was staying in town after school. She did ask Triakis in front of the school gates after the lessons were over if he wanted to come as well, but he didn't feel like it then. He wanted to go home to the cicadel and spend the rest of his afternoon in a nice, quiet place where he wouldn't have to wear his hat to be normal. Maybe he'd try and do some homework in advance, that way he could play with Sphyrna when she came back.  
He completely forgot that Isurus wasn't home today and finally realized it upon entering the empty house, calling out once, then twice, without obtaining an answer.  
_Oh. That's right._ Triakis readjusted the pouch on his shoulder and quietly closed the door behind him. Then he gazed at the wide corridor. The empty hall gazed right back at him, and the still silence in the house made him feel vaguely uneasy. _I'm alone then._  
He hurried up the stairs, threw his pouch to the side of his door and grabbed the sleeping cicadel from its cage before shutting himself in the library across the stairs. In the large, quiet room, filled with rows upon rows of books which muffled all exterior sounds, he felt like he would be more at ease than in his own bedroom.

He's starting to regret his decision to part ways with Sphyrna. Even if it's still day outside, he doesn't feel very reassured by the silent atmosphere of his home. His only consolation is that the green cicadel is at his side, its small body falling and rising with each breath it takes, so he's not completely alone.  
Triakis looks down at the bird and his expression becomes fond, a small smile appearing on his lips. He reaches out and gently pets the cicadel's wings, which chirrups softly in contentement and burrows deeper in the carpet's fibers. The boy marvels once more at the softness of the bird's straight, silky feathers, and he sets the book to the side, leaning closer to the bird to study their shape.  
"I wish I could fly too, sometimes," he tells the bird. "Do you think maybe one day, we'll find a way to fly, Ashi?" The bird doesn't answer, and Triakis continues petting its wings. "It would be a lot of fun... But I wonder if it would be alright, because then, birds would have problems traveling, wouldn't they? Like when there's too much traffic in the market streets and people yell."  
Ashi doesn't seem to care about the boy's questions, and after all, he never does, but Triakis likes talking to the bird about his ideas anyway. Especially about those that concern flight. Triakis loves imagining what it would be like to soar through the skies the way he's seen birds do it, and he's sure that there could be a way for humans to fly as well : they just haven't found it yet. He doesn't tell anyone besides Ashi, though, because other people would surely make fun of him for thinking it.

Isurus told them they weren't supposed to name the bird until they were sure the people at his work agreed to let them keep it as their own, but Triakis doesn't like to simply call it the bird, or the cicadel. So when neither Isurus or the siblings are around, he does call the bird by the name he gave it. Ashi sounds better to him than Sphyrna's 'Birdie' and Carcha's 'Bird': it's more personal, more distinctive, and it sounds pretty. If they can't keep Ashi in the end, just as Isurus seems to think will most likely be the case, well... Triakis prefers not to think about that possibility.

The door downstairs loudly bangs open and a voice rings out.  
"Triakis! Are you there?"  
Triakis recognizes Sphyrna's voice and the bird jumps on its feet at the sudden noise. The red-eyed boy scoops up the bird, then stands up and heads to the door. He peeks down the stairs and calls out: "I'm here!"  
Sphyrna's brown head appears at the bottom of the staircase and she looks up at him. She's a bit red in the face, and she's breathing quite heavily from running up the slope, but she's also smiling.  
"The fishermen are back! Simrad's there too!"  
The boy's lips instantly spread in a matching smile upon hearing those words and he feels gleeful anticipation bloom in his chest. Before he has the time to say anything, she gestures him down the stairs with a jerk of her arm and asks: "Are you coming?"  
"Yes, just wait a little bit!"  
He hurriedly walks to his room and gently lowers the cicadel into its cage. It chirps in protest and tries to keep its grip on the boy's finger, but he pushes it off with a soft click of his tongue. "No, you can't come with us. I'm sorry, but you have to stay here, you know that."  
The bird finally relinquishes its hold on the precious digit and wraps its claws around the bars of the cage, its head jerking left and right as it tries to follow Triakis' movements. The boy is out of the bedroom in a heartbeat, and the cicadel chirps, puzzled by the room's sudden emptiness.

Triakis practically flies down the stairs and once he's grabbed his hat, both children rush out of their house. They run down the steep slope of the cliff, and several times Triakis feels like he's losing control of his own legs because of how fast he's running. Sphyrna almost trips once, but she quickly regains her balance and keeps running on. When they reach the bottom of the slope, their hearts are pounding and their breath is short, but they keep on running. Their enthusiasm is almost palpable.  
The city gates are right ahead of them, but that's not where they're headed. They turn to their left, towards the bay with the majestic sails flapping in the wind, the sound of lapping water, and the seagulls flying in circles that keep an eye out for forgotten fish flopping on the dock's moldy wooden boards. After a few more moments of running, the children finally approach the closest boat and slow down to a stop to catch their breath. Triakis is the first one to recover, and he looks around to see if he can distinguish his fisherman amongst the many that yell and walk the creaky boards.  
His fisherman, as he likes to think, is a strong fellow with a loud, warm laugh and hair the color of a crow's feathering.  
"Do you see him?" asks Sphyrna, still doubled over and trying to breathe properly.  
Triakis shields his eyes and squints at the crowd of sailors. Despite the veil lining the edge his hat which protects his eyes from the sun, it's hard to see with the bright light glaring at his face. Besides, Simrad is part of a big crew so it's hard to tell him apart from the others.  
"No," answers the boy.

He keeps looking and soon, his eyes latch onto the boat he's looking for. The fishing boat _Ainzilaq_ is a big, wide, two-masted schooner with six large white sails - at least, that's the color they used to be. Time, rain, and wind have faded its white in a yellowed one, but Simrad likes to say it shows how much they've been through with _Ainzilaq_. "She's a mighty one, she is," he says with a big smile.

Triakis turns to Sphyrna and gestures towards the boat. "The Ainzilaq's docked over there!"  
The girl follows the direction in which he's pointing, her blue eyes peering through the gently flapping sails for a moment until they widen in joy. "I see it, I see it! Let's go!"  
She's the first to launch off towards the schooner, closely followed by Triakis. Together, they push through the many men and jump over the lying nets, half-full or empty, to reach the boat as fast as they can. There, they both start seeking out their fisherman: Sphyrna calls out his name and questions other sailors about his whereabouts while Triakis silently climbs the side of the schooner and looks around. The boy is the first one to see Simrad when the man's head appears from within the ship, his large shoulders tense with effort as he drags what seems to be a heavy barrel up with him.  
"Simrad!" cries Triakis.  
The fisherman looks up and a wide smile spreads across his features when he recognizes the young boy waving at him from the side, and he gives the barrel a final heave before landing it on the boat's humid planks.  
"Hello there, Triakis!" he calls out with a loud, deep voice. "Thought you'd be here earlier!"  
"Yeah, Sphyrna had to go get me before we came here," answers Triakis.  
The little girl in question soon pops up beside him and yells: "Simrad!"  
The man's grin grows even bigger when he sees her. He climbs out of the hull of the ship completely and squats slightly, extending his arms to each side. Sphyrna jumps over the side of the boat and runs up to him, throwing himself in his arms with a giddy laugh, and he catches her easily. Triakis watches on contentedly as the man and the little girl spin around on the boat, making himself more comfortable on the schooner's railing and letting his legs hang over the side.

Triakis likes Simrad the fisherman's bright smile, despite his crooked teeth and damaged gums. He likes the fisherman's big voice and the heavy hand on his shoulder, despite the cloying scent of amber and musk that surrounds the man as soon as the _Ainzilaq_ reaches the bay- the scent of the perfume he douses himself with in order to hide the reek of fish guts. Simrad doesn't have a wife, but he has several women in this town waiting for him to get back from the sea.  
Triakis finds this man to be comforting, in a way that's far from that of his mentor. Simrad the fisherman is very different from the distinguished Isurus: his words are rough and easygoing, whereas Isurus' are gentle but firm. His clothes are messy and worn each time they see him, but Isurus is always careful to dress well. Simrad doesn't know how to read, apart from the name of his beloved fishing boat, and Isurus spends his nights skimming through papers and books. Simrad has black hair that glistens blue under the sky's bright sun, Isurus has brown hair that shines gold underneath the window of his study. Simrad has dark eyes the color of night, Isurus has blue eyes the color of dusk. Simrad has drawings etched in ink across his skin, Isurus wears an earring. Simrad is a fisherman, Isurus is a scholar.  
Two completely different beings from two completely different worlds, yet Triakis finds them both to be solid landmarks in his life.

The first time Triakis went to see the fishermen, it was Sphyrna's idea. She was sitting on a short stone wall between two shops, her legs lazily swinging back and forth, eating a seed cake with Triakis. Three children, a bit younger than them, were happily screaming about boats and pulling each other down the street, and Sphyrna straightened to watch them run past with clear interest in her blue eyes. Then she looked down at the boy sitting on the ground next to her.  
"Triakis, have you ever gone to see the ships?"  
He looked up at her from under the veil of his hat. "...No. I only watch them from the top of the cliff."  
"You should come and see, I bet you'd really like it."  
He went back to eating his cake, pensive. "I don't think it's necessary."  
"There are some really nice people, you know. They don't live here, they travel a lot. They've seen a lot. They've seen strange eyes before."  
He looked at her again, dubiously. "You're making stuff up."  
She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they have. Simrad tells me plenty about everything he comes across on his ship, and sometimes it's so amazing and unbelievable that I can't help but think _he's_ the one making stuff up. But he swears it's all true!"  
Triakis frowned lightly at her, as if trying to make something out. "Is he the one you go see when you go out on your own?"  
She smiled. "Sometimes. He brings me back things." Then she hopped down from her short stone wall. "Well, are you coming or not?"  
He finished his treat and got on his feet. "I am, I am."

They weaved around the shops to join the main road, then crossed the Southern Gates, which was the closest entrance to where they were sitting. They walked the road, then took a dirt-covered sentry that branched out from it and progressively faded into trampled grass. From where they stood, the beach was still a ways to go and the boats were small white specks against the wide blue sky, but Sphyrna didn't seem in a hurry, and so they made their way down peacefully. The girl struck up the conversation a few times, whenever she remembered something worth mentioning about the fishermen that she felt she had to share with the red-eyed boy; and a few times it was the boy who asked her questions about them.  
He asked her about the Simrad fisherman, because the way her eyes lit up whenever she told him about the man made him curious. He gathered that Simrad was tall, and strong, and brave; that he'd travelled through traitorous storms and cold, wet nights without batting so much of an eyelash; that he was the best fisherman of his crew and that he'd even fished up a monstrous eel once all by himself, one that was as long as the Northern Gates, which was pretty big.  
Triakis watched the way Sphyrna's eyes sparkled and her cheeks grew rosy every time she told him one of Simrad's great adventures, and he felt a bit jealous. He wished he could impress her the same way. He couldn't help but think that the fisherman must've been a liar, because all of this sounded like a bedtime story, and that the only reason Sphyrna was so amazed by Simrad was because she was younger and believed said stories. It surprised him to learn that Sphyrna could be so gullible, she always seemed so mature for her age.

He quickly came to understand why she thought so highly of Simrad. The man had an incredible story-telling ability. No matter what tales he wove, Triakis found that he didn't even care whether they were really true or not, and deeply desired to believe in them completely. And Simrad loved to tell stories, especially to children, before the delusion so typical of adults prevented them from wanting to believe and before their imagination could start to shrivel up with age.

When finally sand started to crunch under their feet, Triakis saw anticipation and excitement grow clearer on Sphyrna's face. The girl's steps got quicker, until she rose a hand to her forehead and squinted at the bay, as if to make sure she was seeing the right thing. Then, she grinned and dropped her hand, and she stopped holding back: she started to run.  
"Come on, Triakis, I can see their boat!"  
Triakis didn't ask why they were suddenly running or what boat she was talking about, and simply picked up the pace as well to follow her.

They ran and ran, their legs carrying them over the wide expanse of sand marbled by the waves, littered with seashells and algae, then by abandoned nets and a few dead jellyfish that still wobbled and glistened under the sun. Bits of wood drifted away in small currents that were drawing lines in the sand. Finally, they reached the place where planks of wood started to rise from the sand, at the beginning of the docks.  
Tall men, short men, strong and thin, with scraggly beards and dirty clothes, all walked around on the boards and shouted and yelled at each other. Their steps were heavy on the docks and resounded with the lapping of the waves and the screaming of the birds.  
Triakis stopped running before Sphyrna did, intimidated by the amount of sailors and noise. The girl's feet lightly hit the wooden boards, and then she turned around, noticing that the boy was staying behind in retreat. She beckoned him closer.  
"Come on, Triakis! It's right over there," she said, pointing to her right. She didn't wait any longer, and started walking again.  
Unwilling to be left behind, the boy hurried behind her. Some fishermen watched them make their way around, but most of the hard-working sailors were busy unloading their fishing nets.  
They reached the _Ainzilaq_ then, and Sphyrna walked up to one of the men holding a full net with a joyful spring in her step to ask him if he knew where Simrad was.  
"Sure, missy, he's right over'ere," the fisherman said, pointing to one of the masts. Sphyrna's eyes followed the direction he showed her, and then suddenly brightened.  
"Thank you!" she cried over her shoulder, already several steps away from both the fisherman and Triakis. The red-eyed boy told the man quiet thanks as well and hurriedly caught up to the little girl.  
"He's right there, look! It's the one untying the big knot that's around the mast, with the drawing on his arm."  
Triakis looked, and noticed the strange blue glint to the man's hair. He was instantly drawn to it and curious as to how such a hair color was possible. He'd always thought that kind of black color was specific to crows until then. The man had strong, muscly arms that shifted under his sleeves as he pulled on the heavy ropes, and Triakis found him intimidatingly tall. The man's size stopped him from stepping closer, but not Sphyrna. She ran ahead of Triakis, yelling: "Simrad!"  
The man barely had the time to turn around before she jumped at him. She was so small compared to him that he had no problem catching her in his arms, and he started twirling her around.  
"Little blue fox!" he exclaimed as he made her fly around, and she laughed happily.  
Triakis watched on, his feelings caught in a place between confusion, curiosity and jealousy. He'd never seen Sphyrna act like this before, and she looked exactly like the little girl she was. Why didn't she act like that at home? Why was this man allowed to spin her around? Why did she look so happy to see him?  
Somewhere in his heart, he also felt a bit jealous of her. It looked fun to be spun around by the fisherman.

The fisherman put her down after a few spins, and then he noticed Triakis standing a few feet away. He smiled at him, then looked at Sphyrna and asked: "Friend of yours?"  
Sphyrna looked behind her and her eyes met Triakis'. There was an intensity in the exchange of their gazes that both children certainly felt, and the boy was afraid she would simply say yes. He didn't fully comprehend it then, but if she did say that, then that would mean that he wasn't really part of the family. It would mean he didn't have a home. It would mean he didn't belong anywhere. And it would mean he was alone.  
After a brief moment of hesitation, the little girl looked back at the big man and said: "No, he's my brother. His name is Triakis."  
Simrad didn't hide his surprise. "Your brother? You got two brothers? Why don't I know about this one?"  
Sphyrna put her hands on her hips. "You don't have to know everything about me."  
Simrad laughed. "No, that's for sure. Family's important, though."  
"My uncle adopted him, that's why you didn't see him before."  
"Ah, adopted. Triakis, that the name? You sure have weird names in your family, foxy." Simrad turned his dark eyes to the boy. "Nice hat, boy."  
Triakis didn't know what to make of the remark, but he didn't like when people pointed out what he was wearing. "I like it," he answered defensively.  
"Sure you do, you wouldn't have chosen it otherwise," said the fisherman. Then Sphyrna spoke again, distracting his attention from the boy's hat.  
"Simrad, remember when I asked you about red eyes?"  
"Sure I do."  
"Can you tell him you saw weird colors before? Triakis won't believe me."  
Simrad straightened and he looked at the boy. "Oh, I've seen strange colors all right. Red eyes, never in my life, but I've seen some people with different colored eyes and once, I even saw a woman with the most beautiful pair of purple eyes. Of course, you wouldn't believe it unless you saw it yourself. It was one of the furthest trips I ever done, and there was one of the worst storms I ever crossed, but hell, it was worth those eyes. A fine piece of work, that woman, I tell you."  
Sphyrna turned to Triakis. "See?"  
The boy frowned. "Purple eyes don't exist."  
"They do, boy, they do. Saw it myself. Now red eyes, those are just stories."  
Triakis crossed his arms. "No they're not. Just because you never saw them doesn't mean they aren't real."  
"Sure, boy, but then the same goes for purple eyes. You say they don't exist because you never saw any, that it?"  
"... Yeah," conceded Triakis.  
"So that means you seen red eyes before. Or do you just believe the stories you hear?" asked the fisherman.  
Triakis didn't answer, and crossed his arms tighter across his chest. Sphyrna answered instead. "Triakis had red eyes. He can show you! You didn't want to believe me when I told you red eyes were real, well now I have proof! Come on, Triakis, show him your eyes!"  
The boy shook his head. "No."  
Spyrna frowned. "But he won't believe me otherwise!"  
"I don't want to show my eyes. There are too many people."  
"Pleeeease," she insisted.  
"...No," he answered, feeling his resolve weaken slightly with her insistance.  
"Just a quick peek!" added Sphyrna. "You don't have to take off your hat, he can just look under the veil very quick."  
"Does he really have red eyes?" asked the fisherman with unconcealed curiosity and disbelief in his tone. "I always thought they were just tales! Or are you trying to play a trick on me?"

It didn't seem Simrad was frightened by the perspective of seeing red eyes, but Triakis didn't like the idea of lifting his veil so someone could ogle his face. What if Simrad's behaviour changed upon seeing that red eyes were real?

Sphyrna stared expectantly at the boy, waiting for him to say yes, but Triakis was silent. The little girl had very limited patience, and after a very brief moment she said: "Well? Can you show him? We haven't got all day, you know. It's nothing big, just lift the veil."  
Triakis studied the fisherman's face. He seemed nice and honest enough, but...  
"Aren't you afraid?" Triakis asked him, embarrassed by how timid he sounded.  
Simrad seemed taken aback by the boy's question, but then he smiled and said: "Superstition's for the weak-minded. Me, I seen that color all around me all my life, why be afraid? Red's a mighty strong color, that of very life. Can't be that bad to see someone with such eyes." Then the fisherman walked past Sphyrna and stood in front of the boy. "If you don't want to show me, that's fine. I believe you without seeing the real thing," he said with a pat on Triakis' shoulder. It was more a slap than a pat, and the boy almost tripped on the slippery boards, but he smiled a bit. He liked Simrad's reasoning.

Triakis still likes the simple way Simrad thinks and speaks, and every time the fisherman comes back from the sea, he and Sphyrna both go to see him without fail. The big man brings them back things he finds in the fish's bellies, like strangely shaped hooks and pieces of polished glass, and sometimes he also brings them souvenirs or the weirdest objects he can find whenever he has to stop in a harbour to buy supplies and rest. Simrad treats Triakis like a normal boy, and Triakis has never needed to show Simrad his eyes. Sometimes the fisherman even gives them one of the fish he's caught as a present to Isurus, even if both men only met twice.  
Most important of all, Simrad always tells them stories, his vivid black eyes and blue-tinged dark hair shining without need of the sun.

Simrad soon puts down Sphyrna on the floor and crouches in front of her, lowering his voice. "You'll never guess what we found out there."  
The little girl shoots him a mocking smile. "I'm pretty sure I can guess. A monster?"  
"No no no no no," says the man as he shakes his head. "This is something different. One of my friends here found a real, authentic oyster pearl, but not just any pearl, a really big one."  
"Really? Can I see it?" asks Spyrna, her eyes sparkling with renewed interest.  
"It's very special," says Simrad as he rummages through his pockets and pulls out a small leather pouch - but not before looking left and right to check if no one else is around to see them. "It's big, but it's almost perfectly smooth, and here's the best of it : it's blue!"  
"No way," breathes Sphyrna in awe.  
"Just like in the story!" exclaims the fisherman with an enormous smile as he picks a small round object out of the pouch and shows it to Sphyrna.  
Triakis doesn't see it very well from where he is, but he can sense the excitement that's coming off the pair in waves. He can't help asking: "What's so special about it?"  
The girl ogles at the pearl as she answers. "Blue oyster pearls are very rare, and it's said they can protect the life of the one who has it in their possession, even if it's only once. It's such a beauty..."  
"I managed to buy it off the guy when he was really drunk," says Simrad with a wink. "Next morning he'd forgotten all about selling it to me, and he thought he'd lost it. It's a secret that I have it, all right? If he knew about it, he'd shank me."  
"No he wouldn't," answers Sphyrna. "The pearl would protect you!"  
"I'm not sure how that works, but I think I better avoid any unecessary conflict."  
"At least you didn't steal it from him while he was sleeping..." ventures Sphyrna.  
"Oh, foxy, I'd done forgotten how much of a bad girl you were," smiles Simrad. "Is that how you get your stuff?"  
"No, I didn't say anything," says Sphyrna with a wave of her hand. "Stop making me look like a bad guy!"  
"Sure, sure," laughs Simrad. He closes his fist around the pearl and puts it back into the pouch, which in turn disappears in his wide pocket. Then the man straightens and says: "You two wanna help gut some fish?"  
Sphyrna makes a face and Triakis doesn't exactly show joy at the thought, because the fish smell stays stuck on their skin for at least two days after that, but they don't say no. Gutting fish can actually be kind of fun sometimes, especially when they find things in their bellies: they get to keep it then. 

The big man leaps off the boat in one swift motion and turns around, and he smiles when he sees their expressions. "Come on, it's not that bad. You wouldn't keep helping otherwise."  
"Yeah, yeah," says Sphyrna. "We'll help."  
Triakis hops down from the boat's starboard and asks: "Did you see anyone with red eyes this time?"  
The fisherman shakes his head. "Same old answer every time, boy."  
Triakis nods and follows him towards the fishing nets and the planks set up in makeshift tables, Sphyrna trailing behind them both. "I see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi pumpkin.  
> Man, it's been a long time since I updated this story. I was stuck on this chapter, sorry... I just couldn't find the right words and the right ideas. I hope this chapter pleases you, thanks for reading and leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> Edit: I added a final part to this chapter, it felt incomplete otherwise. I feel like it's a lot better now!


	14. The Gravel

When Carcha comes home, he expects to see at least one pair of shoes lying next to the door. The floor, however, is devoid of anyone's belongings, and he guesses that Triakis must've gone with Sphyrna after school this time. The blonde boy kicks off his sandals and trudges into the living room, throwing himself and his bag on the couch. Then he sits upright, rummages in his bag, pulls out yet another wrist protection and starts fiddling with it. Despite adjusting the threads with nimble fingers, his mind isn't completely focused on the leather apparel. He keeps recalling a conversation he had with one of his friends earlier, feeling like something is escaping him, something he's been trying to figure out all the way home.

They were hanging out in front of the classroom, waiting for the rest of the gang to gather up their stuff and join them. Carcha asked his friend Ennow if he and the others had planned to do something after school.  
Ennow shrugged. "I think they wanted to go catch some crabs or something, I'm not really sure."  
"You all right?" asked Carcha. His friend looked very disheartened.  
"...I gotta go to my Pa's to work, I can't go with you guys."

Carcha nodded, but he didn't really know what to say. His uncle never asked him to try out a job, and it wasn't like they had a family tradition of shopkeeping or anything. Everything Isurus demanded of him, like training and hunting, Carcha enjoyed doing. He didn't know what it felt like to be forced to do something you didn't especially like. Ennow's family made weapons and his father was the blacksmith who lived right in the center of Holsith. The boy sometimes sported small blisters and burn marks from all the hard work he did when he had to lend a hand, and even if he never frankly complained about the job, he clearly wasn't in love with it either.

They fell silent for a bit, and two other of their friends joined them.   
"Hey, Carcha, did you hear the girls talking earlier?" asked the taller of the pair, Cuasim.  
The blonde frowned at him, not liking the tone of his voice. It was a tone his classmates used when they spoke about something they knew he didn't like talking about. Most of the time, it concerned his family or Triakis. "Which girls?"  
"Lyn and Arion."  
"Who?"  
"You know, the girls that hang out with Tulli."  
"No. I don't speak bitch," he replied. The boy smiled with an _I hear you, man_ lift of his eyebrows.  
"They were talking about Red- uh, Triakis. Apparently Hyacin had some fun at lunch."  
Carcha shrugged. "And?"  
"You don't care?"  
The blonde boy stared at his friend. "Do I look like I care?"

Carcha felt Ennow's stare on him, so he looked over to his friend, glowered at him and said: "What."  
His friend hesitated a bit before speaking. "I just don't get it."  
The blonde sighed. He felt like they'd had this conversation a hundred times already. "What?"  
"You don't care if people hit him or steal his food, but you don't want us to even get close to him. I just don't get it," Ennow repeated.  
"Look, just because people like to pick on him doesn't mean you can have your way with him. He's still a kid my uncle adopted and you guys are my friends. I can't have my friends bullying my uncle's kid. Get it?"  
Ennow looked at the other boys, unsure, and they returned his stare, unwavering. He looked back at Carcha and asked: "So you don't care about what happens to him?"  
Carcha shrugged. "He's a pushover. If he can't defend himself, it's his problem. I can't stop you if you try to make his life miserable when I'm not around, but don't be surprised if I stop hanging out with you when I learn about it."  
Ennow didn't say anything else, and the group made their way out of the school while talking about Tulli's friends, but Carcha could see that there was something on Ennow's mind. He didn't understand why his friend was so obssessed with this caring/not caring deal. He didn't understand why he was so intent on talking about Triakis and the bullying. He didn't understand what it was that made people at school want to beat down on the red-eyed boy so badly.

Ennow left them at the school gates, leaving the opposite way, and the remaining boys started heading towards the beach. Carcha felt like something was off about Ennow, and he couldn't stop thinking about it, so he ended up parting ways with the others to go home. Catching crabs was something he already mastered anyways, so it would be a waste of time to spend the afternoon at the beach.

And now Carcha is spread out on the couch, thinking about that conversation. He wonders why Ennow brings up the topic of Carcha's feelings towards Triakis so often, why Ennow wants to understand. It's not like he should care. Maybe he's hiding something.   
Or could it be that Ennow feels genuinely concerned about Triakis? Maybe he wants to be friends with the guy, but is afraid of dealing with all that bullying. It would explain that he would feel more at ease knowing Carcha would protect Triakis, and as such, would protect Ennow. As odd as Carcha finds it to be, he can't really find another possibility right now. It definitely felt like Ennow was keeping something to himself, though.

Carcha tugs on the sinuous string to flatten out the loop it's forming along the lines. It slips smoothly in the hole pierced through the leather.

It's not that Carcha likes Triakis, nor dislikes him. He's not indifferent to the boy, either. He simply can't decide what he feels towards him. He doesn't know what to make of the guy.  
There are times when he feels anger and spite, but there are others when he feels something akin to respect. Those are the moments when he realizes that he underestimated the boy, and that he shouldn't have: moments when he feels that he is in the wrong.

The thing Carcha despises the most about Triakis is that he doesn't fight back, no matter what.   
It happens at home, when Carcha taunts him for his girly looks and quiet behaviour. Triakis lets everything go. He never reacts physically, never tries to get back at him with his fists: any interaction Carcha has with Triakis remains verbal, and voices are rarely raised. The blonde boy doesn't like that. He's used to resolving conflicts with a fight, and Sphyrna is the same. He's used to yelling, hitting faces, kicking knees, pulling hair, and scratching skin: everything Triakis never does. Carcha doesn't like Triakis' way of reacting because it's too quiet, too unusual, and he can't wrap his head around the red-eyed boy's strangely peaceful personality. Carcha finds him too soft to be worthy of his interest. 

Maybe it's because of Triakis' strangely mellow behaviour that bullies are attracted to him, like dogs to meat. His eye color and pale skin by themselves are a beacon in a school full of kids that have never seen anything different before in their lives, and violence is an unfortunate consequence to his oddness and lack of fighting spirit. Carcha wonders if things would have been any different if he had a normal appearance, but the same personality. 

Probably not.

It happens at school, as well, when Triakis gets made fun of, when someone brutally pushes him to the side - supposedly without meaning to - or when he's showered with insults and ill-intentioned glares. The red-eyed boy never tries to get back at those who hurt him and just lets them do whatever they want, just like any other pushover. Carcha doesn't understand why such a bland and weak individual has to be part of his family, and he can't bear to think that this boy is supposed to be his brother now. 

Carcha has only ever had one sibling, and it's Sphyrna. No one could ever come close to Sphyrna, and especially not some pushy kid like Triakis. His passive ways, his big doe-eyed look, his small and willowy figure... All of his features make him the exact opposite of who Carcha and Sphyrna are and what they're supposed to become. Both of them went through so much to become this strong, to become Isurus' family, and yet this boy ended up in the same position just because he happened to be in Isurus' way on the single day the man went to the market. It's unfair. How could it be so easy for a stranger to become part of their home? There's no way Triakis can be like them, yet Isurus wants him to stay, and Carcha can't comprehend the reasons behind his uncle's choice. How could Isurus ever hope for Triakis to become what he expects his own nephew and niece to become? Triakis will never be strong enough, he's just another looser. 

What about all those stories about red eyes? What about the strength, the violence they are supposed to bring their owner, the awe and fear they are supposed to impose upon their surroundings? Could they really just be simple stories in the end? 

Triakis is nothing like those stories. Triakis is not very different from the rest. Just another weak, useless individual. No one Carcha could consider an equal.

Carcha has stopped being weary of Triakis, because it's clear even to his cautious person that the red-eyed boy poses no threat to anyone or anything. He simply hates how Isurus pays so much attention to this boy the same way he does for Sphyrna or himself. It's a loss of time and effort for their uncle, who seems to be blind to the fact that Triakis will never be useful to their community. He hates how naive and innocent Triakis looks, he hates how gently he interacts with others, he hates how Triakis still acts like a little kid even though they're only two years apart, he hates how much Sphyrna likes him, he hates how Triakis continues to go to school despite the bullying, he hates his wide-eyed curiosity at the market, he hates how stupid it is to buy birds only to release them afterwards, he hates that no one but himself seems to realize how pointless it is to care so much about Triakis.

But then there are times when he thinks he might be in the wrong. Those times when Triakis seems to be older than Carcha, when he speaks wisely and with certainty; times when Triakis finds a particularly smart reply to Carcha's taunts, and Carcha can't help but feel impressed; times when Triakis is hurt, but doesn't whine about it; times when Carcha remembers that it's not Triakis acting like too much of a child, but himself who's acting like too much of an adult; times when he notices that Triakis isn't as naive as he looks; times when he suspects that Triakis is like them, someone who hasn't remained untouched by life's many hardships.

Carcha used to think that Triakis didn't fight back so that adults would pity him, but one day he realizes that this can't be the case. Carcha notices over time that Sphyrna never says anything about the bullying to Isurus, that none of the teachers at the school seem to care about Triakis' situation- something Triakis surely knows himself-, and that their uncle himself doesn't seem to know. It makes things even more confusing. Why doesn't Triakis fight back? Why doesn't he tell Isurus? Carcha himself wouldn't have known about the bullying if he hadn't seen it for himself a few times, and that was only because the bullies knew that he wasn't protective of Triakis and wouldn't intervene.

Carcha doesn't feel like it is his duty to do anything about it, as he is an adept of fending for oneself, but he does feel puzzled by Triakis' behaviour. The bullying visibly pains the boy, and it is clear that he wants it to stop, but his red eyes seem to wait it out each time rather than they seem to fear his bullies. When they meet Carcha's, they don't plead for help. They just seem... patient. That is generally the moment when Carcha chooses to walk away, because it makes him uncomfortable that Triakis doesn't act the way bullied kids usually do.

Sometimes, when people insult Triakis for his eye color, Carcha shoots them a glare heavy with scorn and contempt. He can't help it. He just doesn't get how people his age can be so stupid, so shallow. Why would they ever insult someone for a color, if they weren't being anything but idiots?

Carcha beat up one of those kids once, for calling Triakis a red-eyed bitch. He hates that kid, a loud snot-nosed little brat, and although he agrees with the fact that Triakis is kind of girly and a bit of a pussy, he wanted an excuse to beat the kid up. When he finished, he caught Triakis's look of awe. He felt both disgusted and pleased by the fact Triakis thought he stood up for him. The conflict of emotions disturbed him and he stayed away from Triakis' troubles for a while.

Carcha also helps Triakis with his homework on a few occasions, mostly because Sphyrna asks him to, and each time, he relates to the guy's struggle with maths. It kind of makes him want to be nice with Triakis, but he always regrets it afterwards. He doesn't want Triakis to get ideas and say that they are friends, but at the same time, he genuinely wants to help. There is something about the red-eyed boy, when they are alone in the room, that makes Carcha forget about the fact that Triakis is bullied, that Isurus and Sphyrna fawn over him all the time, that he is weak. Something that makes him want to help him and stay by his side just a little more.

As soon as they aren't just the two of them, however, the strange feeling disappears and everything is back to the way it was. Carcha doesn't understand it, and even if he tries to avoid Triakis for a while after that, there is always a time when he starts feeling curious again. He doesn't understand how it's possible, but it's like the red-eyed boy exerts some kind of attractive force on him. Carcha doesn't know what to do about it and he doesn't particularly appreciate it, but the more he tries to keep his distance, the more he feels the pull. It weirds him out, yet... He can't do anything to change that. If he could, he'd completely stop all and any interaction with Triakis, but he can't.

Once, he encountered Triakis in the boy's bathroom. His class was dismissed early that day, and he didn't go home right away because he felt the urge to pee. The pressing need was instantly forgotten as soon as he stepped into the bathroom.  
He recognized Triakis' small, thin figure and black hair right away. The boy was standing over one of the sinks, his red eyes hidden by his long wavy bangs, with blood trickling down his arm and into the sink. The door behind Carcha closed with a soft click and Triakis looked up. Carcha was surprised to see that Triakis' eyes were dry, although the wound on his elbow seemed pretty painful.

Carcha frowned at the bloody skin. "What happened?" Carcha always frowned at things, and he didn't realize it half of the time.  
Triakis looked down at his arm and continued to rinse it. "I fell on my elbow." Then he started picking at it, removing small grey pieces from his skin, his nose wrinkled in a pained expression.  
Carcha continued glaring at the elbow. "Looks pretty bad."  
Triakis shrugged carefully to avoid jostling his elbow too much. "It's fine. It's just bleeding a lot."  
Carcha took another step and managed to make out the things incrusted in the boy's elbow: pieces of gravel. Gravel... There was gravel behind the school, on the sports grounds.   
"Did someone push you?"  
"It's fine," repeated Triakis.

There was a small moment of silence during which the red-eyed boy managed to take out four pieces of gravel and the blonde next to him kept staring.  
"Are you really fine with it?" asked Carcha.  
Triakis looked up, his red eyes boring into the blonde's. "I can manage," he answered. There was a latent question in that gaze: why do you suddenly care?  
Carcha scratched his ear, wondering himself why he'd asked. "Right. You should go to the nurse's, it'll make a scar if you don't patch it up."  
"...Yeah," nodded Triakis, as if he'd only considered that option just because Carcha had brought it up.  
Then Carcha turned away to leave, but Triakis said: "Don't tell Isurus, please."  
Carcha stopped for a bit. He almost asked why Triakis wanted to hide this from Isurus, but then he thought it wasn't worth it to get involved any further. "I won't."

Carcha tried not to feel too concerned for a long while, but seeing the small eleven year old boy patiently rinsing his bleeding wound on his own without complaining or asking for help just made him more curious. He tried to fight this weird fascination for Triakis all the time, but he just couldn't help thinking about the red-eyed boy when he did.

The wrist protection in Carcha's hands suddenly feels weird, and he realizes he's been tying the edges too tightly. "Fuck," he swears. The two leather linings are now puckered in a wriggly line, and the only way to loosen them is to untie everything and start over.  
Carcha's lips tighten in a wry line as he starts doing exactly that, cursing himself for letting his thoughts wander too far and cursing Triakis for distracting him from the task at hand.

And what about Ennow? The boy didn't hold eye contact on several occasions during their talk, realizes Carcha : that's what was bothering him earlier. That's why he had the feeling that something fishy was going on. Maybe Ennow really was hiding something from him.

Carcha suddenly hears footsteps and voices outside drawing closer, and seconds later the door opens to let in his sister and her red-eyed acolyte. He sits up in the couch, lowering the leather band in his lap, and watches both of the children as they talk and shake their hands around. Triakis' nose is wrinkled, and soon Carcha also notices the smell of fish that starts permeating the air.

"Oh, come on, guys..." he groans, standing up and letting the leather piece fall on the couch. "Did you go and shove your hands in fish guts again?"  
Sphyrna turns to him and shoots him an irritating grin. "Yeah, we did."  
"You _know_ you stink up the whole place afterwards, why do you keep doing that?"  
"To annoy you, duh," answers Sphyrna with an exaggerated eye roll. Behind her, Triakis stays silent, but Carcha can see the small lift of the corner of his lips.  
"What are you laughing at?"  
Triakis stiffens slightly when his gaze collides with Carcha's glare from under the veil of his hat. "Nothing! Nothing at all," he answers right away. "We'll go wash our hands right now, don't worry."  
"You better," grumbles Carcha, getting back on the couch.  
Spyrna sticks out her tongue at him and disappears in the hallway, Triakis hot on her trail.

That's another thing Carcha dislikes about Triakis, the way he happily follows his sister around like some puppy. All right, so Triakis might still be getting his bearings around this place, but it's been three months. He should be able to fend for himself now.

Carcha shakes his head and his glare lands upon the discarded wrist protection.   
It didn't take him that long to get used to this place back then, did it? He can't remember very well. Things were messy at that time, and his mind was jumbled up with grief and confusion.

He picks it up from the couch and continues frowning at it.  
The thing is, he doesn't know anything about Triakis. Sure, the kid looks happy and normal enough despite the bullying, but maybe he's hiding things from them. Maybe Isurus knows things he and Sphyrna don't, and that's why their uncle's taken such a liking to the kid. After all, it's pretty shady how his uncle gave Triakis such a name without explaining why he did so. And that weird breakdown Triakis had on the first evening...

Maybe Carcha's being too hard on the boy. It's not like Isurus doesn't usually think things through before acting. There's probably something bigger going on, and Carcha can't allow his judgement to be clouded by petty jealousy. He can't put his hard feelings aside, but he can try to get a better view of the situation somehow.

Deciding this is the best course of action he can take for now, Carcha goes back to carefully undoing the knots while listening to the sound of his sister and the red-eyed boy talking and splashing water in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Last time I updated I thought it was a long time since I'd added a new chapter. How naive I was. This update feels nothing short of a miracle! I have the feeling my updating schedule just might be getting worse and worse... Blame my studies, not me.  
> Carcha acts like such an adult that it can't be healthy for him. It would be nice if he loosened up one day, wouldn't it?  
> Anyways, I hope you liked this update! Thanks for reading, and of course leave a comment if you feel like it.


	15. The Cat

"Let's hang out in a different place today," says Sphyrna as she excitedly prances around Triakis. "I haven't shown you the old house yet!"

School is over, and students are milling out the gates in a continuous flow of bobbing heads and bursts of laughter. The sun is still high up in the sky and a few white gulls soar through the blue skies, their cries barely audible over the bubbling of the crowd.

Triakis adjusts his old pouch's leather string on his shoulder and looks at her. "The old house?"  
"Yeah! It's all creepy and rotten, a lot of people think it's haunted," grins the little girl. "I think it'll be fun to show you."  
"...You know I don't like scary stuff."  
"Come on, don't be a baby! You're going to love it, I know you are. We can even go up the stairs, and we won't get in trouble for it!"  
"But you just said it was rotten," states the boy with a dubious expression as he fetches his snack from the pouch. "What if the stairs give out?"  
"Then you'll have a broken leg to go with my broken arm. Come on, Triakis, it'll be fun!" exclaims Sphyrna, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along. His doubt doesn't disappear but he doesn't try to resist, knowing full well how futile such an attempt would be.

He has to walk fast to keep up with Sphyrna's enthusiastic gait, and his snack is finished by the time they get there. Sphyrna stops in front of the decrepit building and proudly throws her arms up in the air.  
"And here we have the old house!" She wiggles her fingers around. "Spoooooky, huh?"  
Triakis takes a good look at it and decides that it isn't that spooky. It's quite plain, even if a bit run down on one side, with a smashed window and a dirty facade. The way Sphyrna described it, he thought it was going to have bleeding walls or something.  
"I know everyone thinks I'm a scaredy-cat, but that's not really scary, Sphyrna," he says nonchalantly.  
"Not impressed, my young friend?" says Sphyrna. 

Her tone of voice mimics that of a magician she and Carcha know, a magician who works at the traveling circus which comes around once a year. Triakis hasn't been in Holsith long enough to have the occasion to go yet, but Sphyrna's told him pretty amazing things about it. The red-eyed boy doesn't know what the traveling magician looks like, but he's sure he could easily recognize him. Sphyrna loves to imitate him. Supposedly, she also knows how his tricks work, and she's yet to show anyone a magic trick, but Triakis doesn't doubt her words.

"I'm older than you," Triakis retaliates.  
She ignores him and cries: "Then, behold! The creaky door!"  
She takes a few light steps towards the entrance and starts pushing the door open very, very slowly, for greater dramatic effect. The door gives a high-pitched squeal as its hinges scream in suffering, and Triakis feels a shiver run down his spine when he sees the pitch-black interior. 

All right, so maybe a little bit spooky.

"What say you now, my young friend?" asks Sphyrna with a self-satisfied grin, and Triakis can see that she's guessed his discomfort. He's not very good at hiding his fear.  
"Stop imitating the magician, you're bad at it." It's not true, her accent's actually quite good, but Triakis doesn't want her to feel any better about herself than she already does.

"Follow me, my young friend, and prepared to be amazed..." says Sphyrna as she lightly steps inside, not quite ready to drop the act.  
Triakis looks up at the sky in exasperation, but follows her in the old house anyways. Their feet make the boards creak and the air swirling around them is musty. Triakis can feel the dust tickle his nose and he sneezes once, then twice.  
"Bless you," he hears someone whisper in his ear, and he jumps back with a yelp. Sphyrna bursts out laughing and his face warms up with embarrassment.  
"Quit it, Sphyrna!" he exclaims angrily, swatting at her in the dark.  
She starts mocking his frightened squeal in return. "Eek!" She's laughing so hard that she's practically snorting. "That was so cute, Triakis, you sounded like a little puppy who's trying to bark for the first time!"  
Triakis ignores her and takes a few steps ahead as she continues to gloat, when he hears something.  
He freezes and whispers: "Sphyrna, shhh!"  
"What?"  
"Did you hear that?"  
"Oh, now _you're_ trying to scare _me_? Nice try, buddy." He can almost hear it in her voice that she's crossing her arms.  
"No, really, I think I heard something!"

Sphyrna stops talking and they both listen in silence. Suddenly, a long, keening wail echoes through the walls, making theirs hairs rise on end.  
"Holy bauk!" whispers Sphyrna, grabbing Triakis by the arm. "Let's get out of here!"  
Triakis doesn't think twice and they hastily start running, but once outside he stops the little girl. "Wait!" He stills and Sphyrna turns around.  
"What now?" she cries, throwing her arms out. "Let's just leave!"

The wail rings out again and it sounds clearer where they stand, like a baby screaming. It doesn't sounds so scary anymore when they're out in the sun, but it still sounds worrying. Triakis glances around. "It wasn't coming from inside."  
Sphyrna looks at their surroundings and Triakis starts walking towards the source of all the sound, around the old house. "I think it's coming from behind," he calls out to the little girl, and she follows him. They end up in a messy, weed-ridden yard covered in various shrubbery. The air is silent for a while and they both lie in wait for the next loud wail.

When it happens again, Sphyrna points towards one of the bushes. "There!"  
They walk up to it and Triakis gets on his knees, listening closely. He can hear soft, laboured breathing coming from within the bush, and his protective instincts immediately kick in. He parts the leaves with his arm and his eyes land on what he suspected was hiding there.  
He hears Sphyrna rustle closer and say: "... A cat?"

It looks young and scared, with sleek black fur, pupils fully blown and a quick breathing pace. The green eyes latch onto Triakis' and the boy notices that its leg is hurt.  
He looks to the side and asks the little girl: "You still have your snack, right?"   
He knows she usually keeps hers for later.  
Sphyrna nods. "Yeah, but I'm only giving it to the cat if you promise me you'll give me yours tomorrow."  
The young boy sighs. "Fine, just give it the jerky already."

Sphyrna complies, sliding her bag off her back and rummaging in it for a moment before fishing out the piece of dried meat and handing it to the cat. The cat recoils at the sudden closeness of it and Triakis shakes his head.  
"I think you should put it on the ground in front of him."

Sphyrna huffs, but she does as he says anyway, and then Triakis gestures her to step back with him. The leaves come together again and hide the animal from view, and they listen very quietly for any sounds. After a short moment, they hear the cat move a bit and start eating. Triakis and Sphyrna look at each other proudly.

"We should bring it water too," says Triakis.  
"Do you think we could bring it home?"  
"I'd like to, but it looks really hurt. I don't want to make it more painful by taking him back, and besides, it doesn't look like the kind of cat who'd want to be lifted up..."  
Sphyrna doesn't seem pleased by this. "You mean we have to come here everyday if we want to look after it?"  
"Well, do you have a better idea?"  
Sphyrna stares at the bush and shrugs. "Not really. So do we take turns coming here or what?"  
Triakis smiles at her. "I can come here every day, I don't mind. I know the way now."  
She looks at him. "Really?"  
"Sure," he answers. "I know you've got other things to do after school, and I have lots of free time, so it's not a problem."  
She looks back at the bush, then at the boy again. "I don't have anything after school either tomorrow, so I'll come with you." She pauses, staring at the bush. "It's a cute cat."  
Triakis nods in agreement, then asks: "Do you have anything we could put water in?"

They end up finding a broken jar on one side of the yard and use the largest piece of it as a makeshift bowl, and Triakis takes off his jacket to cover the cat, figuring he'll bring a blanket of some sort the next day. Once they are sure that the cat will be comfortable until the next day, they bid it goodbye and leave the old house.

Sphyrna turns to Triakis. "So much for showing you the old house. It was funny scaring you, though." She giggles. "I keep remembering your little 'eek!' sound."  
Triakis looks at her, annoyed. "You were scared too."  
"No I wasn't," says Sphyrna. "I was just pretending."  
"You weren't pretending."  
"Yes I was."  
"No you weren't."  
"Yes I was."  
"You said 'holy bauk!', I heard that you know," insists Triakis. "And when we ran out, you looked pretty scared to me. You were a lot faster."  
"Because... Then you really believed there was a ghost," replies Sphyrna. "I'm just good at pretending is all."  
"Right," answers Triakis sarcastically. "You're just good at pretending."  
"Oh shut up, Triakis!" exclaims the little girl in exasperation. "Just because you were scared doesn't mean you have to try and convince everyone else that I was scared too! It's fine if you were scared!"  
"I could tell you the same thing."  
"I told you, I wasn't scared!"  
"If you say so," shrugs Triakis.  
Sphyrna struggles to find an answer, and in the end just groans: "Ugh! You're so annoying!"

Triakis is tempted to answer, but doesn't. As long as Sphyrna doesn't get the last word, the fights never end. That's why arguments between her and Carcha last forever.

They continue walking home in silence. Triakis scratches his elbow, the one he fell onto two weeks ago. He didn't go to the nurse after cleaning up the gravel and the blood, but the scabs are gone and there is almost no trace of the wound anymore. It still itches at times, though. 

Sphyrna speaks again.  
"What do you think happened to it?"  
"...I don't know."  
"Do you think it'll get better soon?"  
"I don't know."  
Sphyrna turns on him. "Are you saying that because you're mad?"  
Triakis stops. "What? No, I'm not mad."  
The little girl stares at him for a while and then says: "I thought you were mad."  
"No, I really don't know about all that," Triakis answers earnestly. "I'm not mad at you, you know."  
She starts walking again, and so does he. "It's just that when I'm mad, sometimes I answer like that."  
"I know, but I don't do that."  
"Good," says Sphyrna. "I didn't mean to yell at you."  
Triakis smiles, knowing this is as good as an apology as he'll get from her. "Yeah, I know, don't worry."  
Having promptly made up, both children walk past the eastern gates, towards the sloping hill of their home.

Inside the old house, something old and gone imperceptibly stirs amidst the stifled air and dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Sphyrna can be pretty goofy on some occasions, like any other 10-year old. She really like the circus, and the best part is she doesn't need Isurus's supervision to go there. Carcha enjoys it too sometimes, but he's not a hardcore fan of it, unlike his sister.  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	16. The Report

Triakis lies on the ground with his back against the grass, his hat covering his face to protect his eyes from the bright sunlight. The weather is warm, and the occasional seagull cry can be heard in the distance. Ashi has curled up into a small bundle of feathers in the crook of his elbow, and the bird's feathers tickle the boy's skin with each soft breeze of marine wind. Triakis breathes in the pleasantly fresh air, content and blissful.

It feels marvelous to just lie there in peace and quiet, with the small presence of the bird nestled against him. Triakis always brings the bird with him whenever he stays just outside the house. He likes listening to the whispering waves and the rustling grass, and sometimes Sphyrna comes outside with him to read a book in the sunlight. Triakis often falls asleep there, but the little girl could never take a nap in the grass. She finds the ground too lumpy and hard. In fact, she never stays in the same position too long whenever she reads at his side and keeps alternating between lying on her back, sitting up with her knees up to her chin, lying on her stomach and sitting cross-legged. When she's there, the grass next to Triakis' ears is constantly shifting.

The weather is gradually changing and the trees will soon change colors, so Triakis wants to make the most of the seaside warmth while it lasts.

He hears the door to the house open and someone walking in the grass towards him, so he slides his hat back and squints to see who it is. The footsteps are too heavy to be Sphyrna's, so he thinks it might be Carcha, but he is surprised to see that it turns out to be Isurus.  
The man smiles as he draws closer, and once he reaches the boy's side, says: "It is quite a nice day today. I am glad to see that you are making the most of it."  
Triakis smiles back earnestly. "Yeah, the weather is great. Are you taking a bit of time off on your work?"  
The boy finds himself hoping that Isurus will sit down with him so they can have a little chat. It's been a while since he was alone with his mentor.

Isurus' smile turns apologetic. "Ah, I am afraid not. I was looking for the messenger bird, for I need to send out a report."  
"Oh." Triakis is a bit disappointed, but he tries not to let it show. He scoops Ashi up from the ground and hands the bird to Isurus. "Well, here he is! He's a bit ruffled, though, I think we just woke him up."  
The man chuckles. "I shall give him a bit of time to wake up completely."

The bird chirrups softly in protest as it is passed from one pair of hands to another, and Triakis pats its head lightly to appease it once Isurus has gathered it in his arms. The man watches Triakis say reassuring words to the bird, studying his gentle smile and tender expression. The bird seems to accept the situation for what it is and stops ruffling its feathers in agitation, but Isurus is puzzled by its behaviour. There should be no need for Triakis to have to reassure the bird for it to be completely compliant.

Isurus found no trace of writing which said that such a relationship between animal and man was the norm in his documents on Visions and red eyes. Though they mentioned that Visions were usually better enclined to living in harmony with wildlife than any other types of individuals, it did not say anything about animals being easily tamed or establishing any kind of link with said Visions.

To say that this messenger bird is an abnormal one would be a reasonable conclusion, but it seems strange that this would happen twice with two different messenger birds that were both trained by the order's very qualified cicadel keepers, and Isurus knows to keep in mind that Scholar research on Visions and red eyes is far from complete. If anything, an interesting course of action would be to give Triakis a different bird and see if it happened a third time.

Isurus takes note of this idea and puts it away in a corner of his mind for later. He didn't walk out of the house simply to seek the messenger bird, but also because a thought crossed his mind as he was reading practicioners' notes about red-eyed individuals. He nearly slapped his forehead when he realized that he still hadn't taken Triakis to be examined after all this time.

Isurus has fair trust in his own medical knowledge, and to him Triakis seems healthy enough: the boy has gained the amount of weight he was missing when they met and his injury has healed correctly, although it has left a scar which does not look ready to disappear any time soon. His complexion is pale, but not the sickly kind, and he is only a bit smaller than Carcha. Physically, nothing seems amiss. Mentally, however...

There are some signs that Isurus has noticed over the last three months, even despite spending a rather lackluster amount of time with the red-eyed boy. The Scholar doesn't often step out of his room, and when he does, it's often because he has an errand to run or research to do. The days aren't long enough for him to spend as much time with Triakis and the siblings as he'd like to, and he knows that the child wishes for the same thing, even more than him.

Yes, he's noticed signs of insecurity and loneliness. Signs of longing.

When Isurus can spend time with the children, he tries to treat them all equally, but Triakis has a silent and subtle way of asking for more care, more attention, more comfort. He doesn't say anything, and he's not needy or pushy or nosy: he's a calm and quiet child, docile and discreet, but he hovers. He hovers next to Isurus when the man is in the same room, follows him in the house like a lonely, wandering soul that has chosen to latch onto him. And when Isurus speaks to him, or gives him something to do, the boy's face lights up like a ray of sunshine. He smiles a small but bright smile, so pure and genuinely happy that Isurus can't help but feel glad for him.

Not only that, but the boy seems to greatly dislike being alone. He doesn't talk about it, and he doesn't complain about anything, but his actions say it all: just like now, as Isurus rises from his kneeling position and Triakis follows suit, brushing strands of grass off his clothes. Despite the fact that he was obviously enjoying the sun's warmth just a few moments prior, now that Isurus has the bird with him and starts walking back to the house, the child follows.

Isurus has noticed that Triakis avoids loneliness as much as he can. When the siblings are there, he always manages to stay in the same room as them. When they aren't and Isurus comes home from a trip, the man always finds him holed up in the library with the messenger bird. When Isurus is in his study, Triakis stays in the living room, most likely because it's the closest room to him. It makes the man wonder how Triakis handles the times no one, not even the bird, is home with him. Isurus has a suspicion that this dependent aspect of Triakis' personality is not natural, and that it is somehow due to his memory loss. After all, who would be reassured to be left alone after already losing one family? And even that is supposing Triakis really did have one in the first place.

Triakis doesn't say anything about school, either, but to Isurus it is a hint that things very likely aren't going as smoothly as the boy wants to let him think. It simply seems impossible that he doesn't attract any unwanted attention at school, yet he didn't mention any kind of trouble at all on the first days. Even Sphyrna didn't bring up anything about people at the school doing any wrong. The only notable thing Isurus has seen so far is a scab on his elbow, but Triakis assured him that it was from a fall.

However, if the child's over-reliant behaviour at home is anything to go by, Isurus believes that Triakis likely sticks very close to Sphyrna at school. His niece doesn't seem like she'd be bothered by it, as she readily indulges him at home, but Isurus is quite sure that a boy's simple act of following a girl around usually isn't well viewed by his peers. Add to that Triakis' odd appearance and his noticeably submissive personality, and the boy becomes an incontestable target.

Isurus can't believe that everything is going well. He'd like to think that Triakis bites back harder than he's bitten, and that's why he doesn't have any problems, but the man is quite sure that Sphyrna is the one doing the biting and that Triakis has no idea how to actually defend himself.

He doesn't want to confront the boy about it without any semblance of proof that things aren't truly going well for him, because there must be a reason why Triakis and Sphyrna don't want to tell him about it. And maybe Isurus is the one making up his own story, maybe there's nothing wrong and he's simply projecting his own childhood on the red-eyed boy. It is a possibility that he can't ignore, even if he isn't one to easily let his judgement be clouded: he is lucid enough to know that sometimes, subconscious thoughts take over. 

At any rate, he'll have to have a word with Tessella. He doesn't know what kind of reports she's been sending the Order, but if they know about anything that's going on at school, then it's the least Isurus can do as Triakis' guardian to be clued in as well. 

The man looks down to his side, and his gaze lands upon the boy's black hair.  
"Triakis?"  
The child looks up, his eyes hidden behind his hat's veil. "Yes?"  
"How have you been doing recently?"  
Triakis looks ahead. "Um... Well, I think I'm doing all right. My memories haven't changed, but at least I haven't had any new gaps."  
"And are you feeling well physically?"  
This time, the boy has a smile on his face when he looks at Isurus. "Yes, I'm feeling fine! I think my scar isn't as visible as before anymore. I mean, it's still there, but if I hide it it's almost like no one can see it. You don't have to worry about me."  
Isurus nods, his gaze lingering on the child's neck which is partly covered by a collar despite the warm weather. "Good. I was thinking of going to see a practicioner with you soon. It is nice to know that you are well, but I wanted to verify if there was anything of note to tell them before we went there together."  
"A practicioner?" echoes the boy, distractedly bringing a hand to his neck. "Why?"  
"Well, for a routine check-up. In fact, I should have brought you there sooner, but I was preoccupied with other things."  
"...Do I have to go?" asks Triakis uncertainly. "Won't it disturb them to examine someone like me?"  
"I am sure I can find someone who will agree to it."  
The boy's hand drops to his side and he lowers his eyes unconvincingly. "...If you say so."  
"I will try to find them before the end of the week, but do not let the thought bother you. I will be there during the examination, so you will not be left alone."

Triakis nods, but doesn't say anything. He is clearly bothered by the prospect of being examined by someone, no matter their medical expertise, and Isurus can understand why. Triakis must be uneasy about showing his eyes up close to strangers, and there is also the fact that he is a child. His niece and nephew aren't great adepts of seeing physicians either.

They cross the treshold and Isurus pats the boy on the shoulder. "Try not to think about it for now if it worries you. All things in due time, as they say."  
Triakis looks up at him and smiles, lightly leaning into the man's touch. "All right."  
They part ways in front of Isurus' study and Triakis climbs up the stairs to the upper floor, where he knows he'll find Sphyrna. He tries the siblings' bedroom first, which is empty, and then goes to see the library. He enters the wide room to find the little girl perched on the old ladder they use to reach the highest bookshelves. She notices him the moment he opens the door and immediately exclaims:  
"Oh, Triakis! Perfect! I can't reach that book, can you get it for me?"  
The boy's red eyes travel up the shelves to where her finger is pointing and land on a brown book with a spine as thick as his thumb. He approaches the ladder and makes out the words _Symbols and Esotericism_.

He looks at Sphyrna as she climbs down the ladder. "Haven't you read this one already?"  
"Yeah, about ten times," she says with a knowing smile. "It's a good reference."  
"Reference for what?" he asks, taking her place on the wooden rungs.  
"Oh, you know," she answers evasively. "Stuff."  
The boy reaches out to the book and pulls it off the shelf. "Magic?"  
She shrugs. He doesn't insist and he hands her the book. "Here you go."  
"Thanks."  
"If you're the only one reading it, how come it was so high up?"  
Sphyrna rolls her eyes and sighs. "It's Uncle Isu. I forgot to put it away and he doesn't like it when we leave a mess, so his idea of revenge is to put the books all the way up so that I can see how annoying it is to get them back afterwards. That way I remember to put them away where I can reach them."  
"Does it work?" inquires Triakis.  
She shoots him a look, raised eyebrow and all, and gestures to the book that she's holding. "What do you think?"  
The boy smiles sheepishly. "I guess not."  
The little girl derisively shakes her head and then turns around to go settle on one of the pillows, and Triakis stays on the ladder to see if one of the books on the shelves will strike his fancy.

Below the library's carpet-covered floor, Isurus pulls out a small piece of paper and a pen from his desk and starts writing his report. He's set the messenger bird on the side, where it waits silently for its next mission. The quill pen's pointed tip quietly scratches against the parchment as the scholar writes his observations in dark ink.

_Greetings to the Order,  
Here I have written down my second report._

_Triakis is healthy. He shows no sign of being able to Dreamtell, and his memories have not returned. He harbours no similar trait to Visions. The only thing of note is that he has befriended the messenger bird again, to such an extent that the bird seems agitated when it has to leave him._

_Forgive me for asking, but is the Order absolutely sure that they have sent me a different bird each time? If so, have both of the birds been trained by the same Keeper? Surely there is a logical explanation to their behaviour._

_Isurus Dalafanghi_

The scholar leans back in his chair and reads the lines he's written again, making sure that he hasn't forgotten anything important. Then he grabs it and rolls it up tightly before beckoning the bird closer. The green cicadel hops up to the man's hand and stands completely still while he ties the minute scroll to its foot. Isurus checks that it is well attached to the bird's leg, then gathers the cicadel in his hands and steps around his chair to the window. Sliding the lock back, Isurus pushes one of the glass panes open and holds his hand out.

The bird angles its small head at the man, as if questioning him.  
It doesn't take off.

The scholar stares at the messenger bird patiently.  
To no avail.

When it becomes clear to Isurus that the bird doesn't want to do what it was solely raised for, he feels slightly irked and intrigued by its behaviour. Could it be going against its only purpose simply because of the bond it has established with the red-eyed boy?  
A thought crosses the man's mind and he brings the bird back inside, unties the scroll and lies it out on the desk again, adding in one short sentence: _Please send me a different cicadel._

The second time he holds the bird out of the window, he doesn't waste time studying the way it is acting. If it doesn't want to fly away of its own will, then Isurus will have to make it. It's not that he enjoys scaring small animals, of course, but it is simply how green cicadels are trained.

Two blue circles start shining brightly in the dark beads of the bird's eyes as it faces the man's stare. The bird twitches and recoils slightly, then immediately jumps out of the scholar's hand and flaps its wings as fast as it can to escape the ominous gaze clinging to its feathers. Isurus watches it go as he crosses his arms over his chest. Then the man blinks, and the bird is already just a speck against the clear skies.

Isurus turns back and goes to sit at his desk, rubbing his eyes as a discreet but familiar ache spreads across his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> Hwaaaaaaaaaat?? An early update?? That's crazy!  
> Yeah, I finished writing this chapter today. And I feel bad about the sporadic lack of updates this story is sometimes (often) subjected to, as always, so the guilt makes me want to update as soon as I can. It's not a good decision or anything, but who cares, at least this chapter is up. Hooray!  
> Hope you enjoyed it. Leave a comment if you feel like it!


	17. The Ghosts

It lasts only a few days, but for a little while, Sphyrna accompanies Triakis to go see the cat when school is over. They both go with food and water, stay with it for a little bit, make sure that it's comfortable and healing well, even talk with it when it seems to be in a good mood. Then Sphyrna quickly loses her initial interest and asks Triakis to give her news on how the cat is doing, for lack of going herself. Triakis gingerly accepts, but not before asking her why she doesn't want to go anymore.   
She lightly shrugs : "It's just a cat."  
"But didn't you want to look after him with me?" asks Triakis, curious about her change of heart.  
She looks down at her bag and rummages in it, fishing out a piece of paper and showing it to him. It's a drawing of a book with a dark blue cover and a strange symbol on its front, and she looks rather proud of it.  
"What's that?" he asks.  
She smiles excitedly. "A book I've been looking for for a while, and I heard someone say that a new book trader is coming to the market for a few days. He might have information about what I'm looking for!"  
"Is that why you can't come to see the cat?"  
She nods as she puts the piece of paper back in her bag, and asks : "You don't mind going to the house alone, do you?"  
Triakis shakes his head lightly, and says in an unconvincing voice : "No..."  
She looks up at him. Her blue eyes twinkle with mischief and the corner of her lips curls up teasingly. "Are you scared?"  
"No!" immediately retorts Triakis in a defensive tone. "I just wanted to know, that's all!"  
She giggles and throws her bag over her shoulder. "Right, right! See you tonight then!"  
He grumbles an answer which Sphyrna, already five steps down the street at that point, doesn't take the time to listen. Triakis watches the little girl retreat on bouncy feet and he sighs softly, resignedly grabbing the string of his pouch and turning the other way to head to the old house.

When he reaches the run-down place, he notices that something has changed. The dwelling looks even more damaged than before, and part of the wall has collapsed. The small passage he and Sphyrna usually go through to access the garden directly is covered in rubble and, upon closer inspection, rusty nails and splintered wood. Triakis decides not to risk getting injured on the sharp edges, remembering that Isurus always tells them to stay away from rusty nails and thorns because a cut from those could lead to something much worse.

He doesn't quite feel reassured when, for the first time, he has to walk through the old house by himself. The atmosphere feels different now that he's alone, and the gloomy furniture around him stands eerily still and quiet. He notices an old, dusty tattered shroud covering an old, dusty armchair, and broken glass which glints in the single tiny sliver of sunlight that manages to peek through the half-rotten planks nailed to the windows, things he didn't notice when he was with Sphyrna the first time they came in here. He sees a big, misshapen lump in a corner and his breath catches in his throat, and he stills, waiting for the slumped shape to uncurl and jump out and eat him whole, but it doesn't. Triakis closes his eyes and breathes out slowly and imagines Carcha punching him in the shoulder and Sphyrna making fun of him for being such a scaredy-cat, and the fright slowly ebbs back like a tide at night, and he can open his eyes again and see that the monster is just a heap of curtains on the ground. Triakis starts moving again and tip-toes around like he's afraid to wake up the old sleeping house. Fortunately for him, no ghost pops out of the decrepit walls to grab him as he quickly and quietly makes his way around the house, holding his breath and afraid to touch anything. He somehow makes it out in one piece and tries to ignore the uncomfortable tingling sensation in his back, and practically runs away from the creepy insides of the house, hastening to the cat's bush.

The cat isn't afraid of Triakis anymore; it stopped being afraid very fast. The cat is so at ease with him that it starts purring almost immediately when Triakis parts the bush's branches. It smiles a cat's smile, blinking only once, its feral gaze satisfied to see the boy arrive with its daily meal. Triakis smiles back and gets on his knees, fumbling with his pouch to get his jerky. It meows loudly, commanding Triakis to set the food down at once.

"Coming, coming..." mumbles the boy, his fingers finally closing around the piece of dried meat. "Here you go."  
He fishes it out and lowers it to the ground, in front of the cat. The animal sniffs at it delicately, its pink nose brushing against the piece once, twice, and then it starts eating the food. Its small white teeth flash here and there as it chomps down on the jerky. Triakis watches the animal munch on the tough brown piece of beef and smiles to himself. He wonders what he should call the cat. Its dark fur give him many ideas of names, like Shadow or Nightingale or Licorice, but none have the right feeling to them, and he ponders. Maybe Sphyrna could help him. After all, they found it together, and she'd probably be a bit mad if he named the cat without her. She's still a bit sullen about Ashi and he doesn't want to hurt her feelings again, and even if he did, he'd pay for it sometime, somewhere, somehow : not a thing he wants to happen to him, and even less if Sphyrna is the instigator.

Suddenly the cat freezes and looks up at the boy.

The cat emits a low growl, and its upper lip draws back over its small, sharp teeth. A primal jolt of unease shoots up his spine when Triakis hears the nerve-grinding sound, and he sees the cat's dark pupils blow up in two black pits and its ears fold to the back of its skull. Suddenly he is very afraid that the cat will attack him, and finds himself unable to move, for fear of setting it off. They both stay frozen in place, watching each other warily. Then the cat's eyes drift slightly to the side of Triakis' head, just above his shoulder. It sits so still it looks made out of stone.   
The boy cautiously looks over his shoulder but sees nothing. He turns back to the animal worriedly.

"What is it?" asks Triakis, wondering what the cat might be seeing that he isn't.  
The cat starts to back up slowly, smoothly, its hackles raised as it drags its hurt leg along.  
"Wait, don't move," says the boy, raising a hand to stop the cat, but it violently recoils with a hiss, spooked by the sudden movement. Triakis retrieves his hand so fast that he falls back in surprise. The cat doesn't take advantage of this to attack or flee, however, and it simply stares. Triakis sits up, and after a small pause apologizes to the cat. "Sorry... I didn't mean to scare you."

He watches the animal silently, confused by its unusual reaction, but the cat shows no sign of calming down. Triakis decides to leave the cat alone for now. He slowly gets to his knees and slips the pouch over his shoulder, gently pulls the branches of the bush back together, then rises and takes a step back, careful not to make any sudden movements. The cat could decide to jump at him at any moment, fangs bared and claws drawn out, and he really doesn't want to get scratched.  
The animal doesn't move. Behind the bush's branches, Triakis can still see its scared eyes and dilated pupils.

"It's all right, I'm leaving," the boy tells the cat in a soothing voice. "I'll come back tomorrow."

The cat's green eyes don't move and Triakis feels unsettled by its stillness. He hesitates, fiddles with the string on his pouch. He glances towards the dark house. He looks back at the bush. Then he looks away and walks up to the old house. Once in front of the old house, he glances towards the yard one last time, hoping that the cat will somehow come out of the bush and look all right again, maybe help him figure out what just happened. The animal remains hidden in the branches, and Triakis leaves the yard. He rapidly makes his way through the old house, his pace quickened by the unsettling air of the rooms, and finally breaks out into the sun once more.

The sunlight does nothing to wash away his unease, and the troubled feeling for part of his walk home. Triakis doesn't think that he did anything bad. He was only watching the cat when it started acting strange, and not doing much else, so it couldn't have been him. Besides, the cat wasn't exactly staring at his face : it was looking at something else, but Triakis doesn't know what. There was no one else with them. The yard was empty. But those scared, threatened eyes the cat showed him makes him feel awful.

Triakis tries to ignore the thought that's been nagging at him since, that the house is supposed to be haunted, because the thought makes his hair stand on end. What if the cat saw a ghost? Don't people say that animals can see things humans can't?  
 _No, no,_ thinks the boy, shaking his head. _That can't be it._   
Ghosts aren't real. It's just Sphyrna who made stupid stuff up about the house being haunted. It's ugly and old and worn down, and sort of cold, but that doesn't mean it has to be haunted....  
Triakis squeezes the strap of his pouch in his hand and tries not to think about it too much. It's bad enough that Carcha and Sphyrna take him for a scaredy-cat, now if he really starts believing in ghosts, then they'll never let it go.

Besides, he shouldn't be thinking about all that stuff. There's no point in scaring himself with something so vague. Maybe the cat just got scared for no reason. Maybe there was another cat nearby and it smelled the intruder. A lot of things could've happened to make it react like that, and ghosts should be at the bottom of the list.

Triakis looks up from the path he's walking on and gazes at the horizon's blue skies. The docks are almost full, but Simrad said he wouldn't be back for a few days. Maybe Triakis could ask the fisherman for some fresh fish when he comes back : it would be a nice change from the old jerky he always gives to the cat. The gulls are far away from Triakis, but their cries are carried by the wind, tossed about like thin pieces of seaweed in the waves. The boy stops walking and stares at the flying shapes, so high up in the sky, small and swaying against the vast blue firmament. The wild flowers on each side of the road rustle softly in the breeze. The air is fresh and humid and slightly salty, warm earth and marine life mingling in the breeze that blows in the boy's direction. He can even smell the diluted tang of fish drying out on wooden boards. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, and drinks in all the sounds and smells, and feels happy. Then Triakis opens his eyes again and heartily marches on, the ghosts of the old house eagerly forgotten.

A few moments later, the boy reaches his home and stops in front if the door. He tightens his hold around the string of his pouch and closes his eyes, trying to swallow down the lump of anxiety in his throat. He silently and fervently wishes three times for someone else to be home, and then opens his eyes and pushes the door open. The door to his house is never locked shut, even when no one is home. Sphyrna told him it was because the townspeople never ventured high up on the hill, so Isurus didn't think it was necessary. Triakis steps inside, his gaze roaming along the side of the wall to check for any shoes. He feels a small surge of relief upon seeing his mentor's lying on the ground, and he takes off his hat, its amber veil grazing along his dark hair as he lifts it up to hang it on the rack. Carcha's sandals are also there, but the older boy usually leaves his shoes at home even when going out. A lot of people prefer going around barefoot in Holsith, since it's so warm and the trails are mostly made of dust or trampled grass, but Isurus insists that shoes are important and Triakis prefers to go along with what the man says. He saw someone walk on a broken pottery once, at the market, and Triakis decided it was better to keep his shoes on at most times. Of course, it doesn't stop him from walking around barefoot on their cliff.

Triakis looks at the door of Isurus' study, which is closed as always, and then towards the living room. If Ashi was there, he'd go upstairs to do his homework, but he'll have to settle with downstairs for now. The boy slips off his shoes and goes to sit on the carpet, next to the coffee table.

Behind the study door, standing next to one of the bookshelves, Isurus hears soft footsteps walking away from him and recognizes them to be Triakis'. The man closes the folder in his hands and pushes it back onto the shelf, then goes to his desk and picks up a piece of paper. The address he wrote on it belongs to the only shrink left that could possibly allow for Triakis to be examined. 

As he roamed the town earlier that day, Isurus wasn't surprised to learn, one physician at a time, that no man of sane mind was willing to perform a check-up on the red-eyed boy. Holsith's culture bathed in myths and stories, and the townspeople were too superstitious. One of them, one that refused more out of fear of hurting her reputation than of being hurt by the red-eyed boy, took pity on Isurus and his child and gave him the coordinates to another practicioner in the larger city of Kollajan. She told Isurus that this man was bound to be more open-minded than his collegues in Holsith. Rumors said he'd treated strange individuals before. Isurus graciously accepted the paper, and thanked the physician, and went on his way. Once back home, he looked through his folders once more to check that he hadn't missed any other practicioners in Holsith, but that woman was the last of them. 

The man looks out the tinted window of his room and breathes out slowly, deciding that the sun is high enough that he can make the trip forth and back today. It isn't easy to find, but he has to make sure he has someone with medical practice at hand should Triakis need it. As easy as it is to brush away Triakis' concerns, the truth is that finding a good practicioner for a red-eyed individual is nothing short of a feat. Isurus looks down at his hand again. He hopes this piece of paper will help him find what he needs, or his search could last much longer.  
Isurus folds the piece of paper in four and slips it into his pocket, then steps out of his study. He notices part of Triakis' elbow on the coffee table in the living room, peeking out from behind the door frame. As soon the door to the study lands shut with a soft thump, Triakis shifts and looks out of the living room with a curious expression. Isurus smiles at him.  
"Hello, Triakis."  
"Hello," answers the boy. His voice almost sounds cautious, and beyond the curiosity, Isurus thinks he can see worry take shape on his face. "Are you leaving?"  
"Yes," Isurus nods calmly. "However, I shall be back tonight, if all goes well."  
"... I see." Triakis looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't. He simply lowers his head and shifts his gaze back to his homework.  
Isurus steps to the side and goes to take his bag off the rack in the entry, then pulls on his shoes, and puts his cloak under his arm in anticipation for the night's cooler weather. He opens the door and is about to step out when he hears a small voice.

"Have a safe trip..."

The man turns around and his gaze lands on the boy standing behind him, half-hiding behind the living room's door frame. Triakis is holding his arm with one hand in an uncertain stance, and his red eyes barely hide how anxious he is. The boy hastily looks down when Isurus turns to him, like he's afraid the man will reprimand him for acting this way. Isurus takes a step towards him and settles a hand on the boy's shoulder, slightly bending his knees. He can see the flustered tinge to Triakis' cheeks, and the discreet glimmer in his eyes.  
In a calm voice, he asks : "Why are you upset?"  
The boy continues avoiding his stare. "I'm not..." His voice breaks off.  
"I shall be back soon," promises the man. "Carcha has only gone for a while, you will not be alone for much longer."  
Triakis just nods. He doesn't try to argue that he's not afraid, nor does he ask him to stay. Isurus watches him silently for a moment, and then he gives the boy a pat on the head. Straightening, he smiles and says : "My trip will be safer than ever, thanks to your well-wishing."  
Triakis looks up and sees the reassuring expression on Isurus' face, and his lips curl up in an effort to mirror his mentor's smile. "Good," he says quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin. It's me, the procrastinator from hell!  
> Well, here's an update. Also I'm currently doing an internship and it's tiring even if I do nothing but sit and read stuff all day. Their computers have horrible lighting... I feel like I might be going blind.  
> I tried to draw Isu and the kids, here's the link : https://tanukitan.deviantart.com/gallery/65771863/Tea-Leaves-and-Roselite
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	18. The Practicioner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warning, the tense used in this chapter is different from the usual.  
> I'm trying it out, tell me if you think present or past is better!

Isurus walked down the warm streets filled with people. He was heading for the school, and wanted to make a detour by the old neighbourhood before that. He didn't often go around the town, but when he did, he liked to greet the townspeople that knew him well. Most of them lived on the oldest foundations of Holsith, as he often went there to visit Sûl when he was younger. Isurus turned a corner and the light breeze played with the flaps of his pale green tunic. He looked up at the orange walls and dusty windows, and honed his gaze on one of the habitations. Sûl was looking out his half-opened window, as always, the windowsill cutting off the rest of his body below the shoulders. Smoke was drifting out of his pipe and into the sky. Isurus waved, and the old man dipped his head in response.  
The scholar smiled and continued down the road. A man leaning on the side of his doorway caught sight of him and called out : "Good day, Isurus!"   
His wife was sitting on the porch next to him, and looked up from her embroidery and squinted to see what was going on. When she saw Isurus, she smiled at him and put down her handiwork to greet him with a small wave.  
"Good day!" Isurus called back.  
He pressed on and greeted a few more elderly acquaintances, then left the old neighbourhood.

As he neared the school, there were more and more children in the streets. Some were walking by themselves, others were running around and laughing. Isurus had to sidestep a boy, younger than his own children, who wasn't looking where he was going and nearly bumped into him. The scholar stopped where he stood and watched him go, as if assuring himself that such an accident would not happen with someone else, and resumed his walking. He passed the open school gates and the children gathered there, feeling their young gazes cling onto his back. He thought he heard the words "red eyes", "trouble" and "Dalafanghi", but he wasn't sure and did not turn around to check. One of the school's supervisors crossed his path and Isurus greeted him. The man stopped in his tracks and turned around to face him.  
"Na'ar Dalafanghi," the supervisor said respectfully when he recognized him. "You've come to see the Director?"  
"Indeed," answered Isurus. "Is she still in her office?"  
"That she should," replied the supervisor. "I haven't seen her walk out yet."  
"My thanks."  
The supervisor nodded with a smile and left, and Isurus walked into the school building. A few children were still inside and were gathering their things and shrugging on their bags. Out of the corner of his eye, Isurus saw them elbow each other and whisper among themselves as he advanced in the corridor.

He soon reached the tall door of the Director's office and lightly rapped against the wood.  
"Come in," the woman's voice wafted from inside.  
Isurus opened the door and stepped in the office, and Director Mysloe smiled. She was holding a quill pen and it seemed she had been writing a paper before his arrival. "Isurus! I thought it was only a matter of time before I saw you again."  
"Hello, Tessella," said Isurus as he closed the door behind him. "I am also pleased to see you."  
The woman gestured towards the chair in front of her desk. "Sit down, sit down. What, or rather who, brings you here? Triakis? Sphyrna? Carcha?"  
Isurus sat down. "All three of them, I suppose. But first of all, I wanted to thank you. I have been putting that off long enough."  
Director Mysloe's blue eyes seemed puzzled. "Thank me?"  
"Yes." Isurus nodded and smiled at her. "I thank you for not reporting to the Order about Triakis' name. Sphondyl was not made aware of it before out meeting, and so it must be that the Order was never informed."  
The puzzlement in the woman's eyes turned into warmth. "Ah, yes, that. I thought it would be better if you told them yourself. I did not want the Order to come to a conclusion by themselves without your side of the tale. Besides, they were so troubled by my information that they did not ask me any more than I had told them, and I imagine they must have been a bit ashamed by their lack of insight after learning of it. They did not reprimand me."  
"If you did not get in any trouble for it, then I am all the more thankful."  
Director Mysloe set the quill pen to the side and gathered her hands in her lap. Her posture was straight and there was refinement to the way she carried her head. "Thanking me was your first order of business, then. What is the second?"  
Isurus crossed his hands on the desk. "I would like to know about Triakis' situation at school. He tells me that everything is all right, and neither he nor Sphyrna have told me about any kind of problem, but I doubt that his school life is as peaceful as both children lead me to believe."  
The woman's lips twisted slightly before she answered. "...Well, it is most certainly not peaceful. The other children at this school are cautious when I am in their whereabouts, however I've heard of their doings. A teacher reported seeing classmates harass him when Sphyrna was not around, but that teacher is the only one who told me anything about what was going on between Triakis and the others. No one else has bothered telling me about it, and I am afraid that this teacher is the only one feeling any concern over your boy's situation."  
Isurus stared at her intently. "What is your personal understanding of his situation?"  
Director Mysloe sighed. "I believe Triakis is not doing very well with others. I believe that what was reported to me once has happened many times before. He is an intelligent child, that I have no doubt about, but the school's environment is not helping him develop as well as you wish him to."  
Isurus nodded. "Do you know how serious it was?"  
"No. I haven't heard anything from the nurse, so it is not so serious that Triakis gets badly injured, but aside from that I haven't been able to ascertain just how grave the situation is. I was told that the other children do get physical with him on occasion, and knowing what I know about children in this school, I have no difficulty imagining them doing worse things. I'm sure you know just how much of an easy target your boy can be, and just how petty children are."  
"I do," answered Isurus.  
"Perhaps you would do well to retrieve him from my school before worse things happened," suggested Director Mysloe.  
But the young man shook his head firmly. "No. I simply need to teach him how to deal with the others."  
"Isurus," said Director Mysloe. "Please understand. If Triakis were a normal child, I would not insist like this, but I am genuinely afraid something truly bad will happen to him if this continues. You cannot underestimate the fear and anger his eyes inspire others."  
He gazed at her thoughtfully, trying to read beyond her expression. "Tessella, what you are saying... It sounds like one of those stories. _The red-eyed monster instilled fear in human hearts, and sprouted evil from their beating flesh._ Do you truly believe that this kind of thing would happen amongst your students because of him?"  
Director Mysloe's lips tightened in a line, and her answer did not come straight away. When she did answer, her voice sounded uncertain. "I am not sure what to believe anymore, Isurus. They try to hide if from me, but I have seen the way some of the children look at him. It seems wrong in their young faces, and gives me a terrible sense of foreboding. You have not seen their eyes. You do not know what they feel."  
Isurus contemplated this answer silently.  
Director Mysloe spoke again. "Remember this, Isurus. All stories have their roots in reality."  
The man lifted his blue gaze to her face. He understood how serious Director Mysloe's concerns were, but he did not feel like he could simply retrieve Triakis from the school as she had suggested. He had told Triakis that he would take action if school proved to be to much for the boy, but Triakis had not yet complained. Isurus felt that the boy wanted to stay in school, despite the adversities he was confronted with. As his mentor, Isurus had to make sure Triakis was safe, but he also had to respect the boy's wishes. He straightened in his seat and removed his hands from the desk. "If you think that Triakis is in some real kind of danger, I shall be more attentive to his state of mind. For now, nothing leads me to believe he needs to be taken out of your classes. He has not asked for any help and has not been seriously hurt."  
Director Mysloe shook her head in quiet reproval, but did not insist. "He is your child after all. I will not go against your wishes, but if anything terrible were to happen to him, I will not be blamed."  
"Duly noted," answered Isurus. Then he got out of his seat and bowed his head. "Thank you for your time."  
"Of course." She paused, and then said : "If you found the time to come see me, then you must be leaving Holsith. Where are you going?"  
"I am leaving for Kollajan. I have been told that I may find a practicioner there for Triakis."  
"I see.Then there is nobody in Holsith that is willing to attend to your child?"  
"Not that I have found."  
One of Director Mysloe's hands tugged on her shawl to pull it over her shoulders. Her blue eyes seemed a bit sad. "What a shame. Holsith truly isn't the best town for someone like Triakis."  
"It is a good town, but too superstitious," agreed Isurus. "I was thinking of teaching Triakis some means of defense, were anything to happen, but for now the townspeople remain rather peaceful."  
"Why not teach him now?" asked Director Mysloe. "It would help him if he knew how to fight back his classmates."  
"You know he is not a fighter, unlike the siblings. I suspect he would refuse to learn how to fight, for fear of hurting anyone, unless he were to be faced with a dangerous threat. If he has not told me about his classmates, then it is quite possible he does not consider them to be one."  
Director Mysloe nodded thoughtfully. It seemed she agreed with his point of view. "I trust you will make the right decision," simply said the woman.

When Isurus left the schoolgrounds, there were only a few children lingering about. Most of them were waiting for their parents, judging from their shuffling in one spot and obvious boredom. Isurus smiled at those on his path, silently wishing them courage, and a few timidly smiled back. The older ones ignored him or sneaked glances in his direction, nonchalantly leaning against the walls the way youngsters did thinking they looked good doing it. Isurus thought of the children he had at home. He was not quite looking forward to the siblings reaching the peak of pubertan attitude, as their behaviour caused him a few headaches even now. He was not so sure about Triakis.

The scholar picked up the pace in the direction of the stables. Kollajan was not so far away on haprinback, merely one hour or so, and Isurus hoped the practicioner there would be broad-minded enough to accept Triakis as a patient. If that turned out to be the case, then Isurus would count himself lucky to find a practicioner that wasn't too far from Holsith. It wasn't the best, and he would have preferred someone in Holsith in case of emergency, but he could not be too picky.  
Isurus reached the stables and greeted the ostler. Eloi was happy to see him, as always, and the ostler had the haprin ready in a matter of minutes. They quickly left for Kollajan, and the beast's hooves thundered as they hit the dusty trail. By the time they arrived in the town, the shadows had the elongated allure only late afternoon could give them. Eloi slowed down at the town's entrance and Isurus took out his piece of paper. He looked around and gave the haprin's flanks a slight squeeze, and they walked up to two old men sitting in front of their home.  
"Good afternoon," Isurus greeted them. "I am looking for a practicioner. Does Master Eathe sound familiar to you?"  
"Ah, yeh it does," answered the man sitting to the right. "He's down by the ol' mill, on the edge of the town. He's not the commendable type, I warns yeh."  
"That he isn't," said the other with a knowing nod. "A strange fellow, that one. Not one of the good doctors."  
Isurus' interest was piqued. "What makes you say that, if I may?"  
"He's of the foolhardy sort, not a wise man. Not a doctor I would trust," answered the man on the left.  
"He experiments. Claims he can treat the strange ones, right shit I tell yeh," added the man on the left.   
"The strange ones?" echoed Isurus.  
"Yeh. The ones with demons in them, or the dumb and crippled."  
The other man shook his head, as if disappointed by a wayward son. "No doctor should be so unreasonable. Those sorts should be left to themselves. Who knows what misfortune their touch may spread amongst the unspoiled?"  
Isurus nodded. It seemed superstition was also present in Kollajan, even if he had only witnessed it amidst elderly people for now. "And despite all of this, I take it his business is still running?"  
The man on the right shrugged in powerless bewilderment. "Yeh. People don't mind him doing those kinds of things as much as they used to. S'pose they've gotten used to it, but not me, no, not me."  
The other one agreed with a sigh. "They're not careful enough. Well, if they get contaminated, it won't be that we never warned them. That's what you get for not listening to the elderly."  
"Thank you for your time," answered Isurus with a gracious smile. "Could you point me in the direction of the mill?"  
The old men directed him to the west, but not without warning him one last time, and Isurus and his haprin set out to find the mill. The scholar asked a few other people on the way, and someone told him the practicioner's office had clearer walls than the rest of the houses, so pale that they had the color of a cut peach. The color was what helped him locate the doctor's place.

Isurus dismounted Eloi and tied the haprin to one of the posts on the side of the road. The building on front of him was taller than the houses surrounding it, and almost all of the windows were open to let in the warm late afternoon sunlight. He walked up to the building, took hold of the door knocker that was still warm from the sun's rays, and knocked three times. He heard the knocks echo inside, indicating that the practicioner's place was a wide one. The sound of footsteps appeared, and the door opened.  
A thin young man with mousy locks stood behind the door. He had pale brown eyes and a welcoming smile. "Hello, na'ar."  
"Hello," Isurus greeted him. "Are you Master Eathe?"  
"No, I am his assistant. Have you come as a patient?"  
"The answer would be both yes and no. I have come to talk to you about a potential patient," specified Isurus.  
The young man gestured him inside. "Then please, do come in. Master Eathe will be there in a moment."  
Isurus did as he was told and stepped in the building. The floor was made of mosaic tiles and the walls were a clean white. The were green plants lining the corridor. The place looked much bigger than on the outside.

"Follow me." The young man guided him to the side, where the waiting room was. It was spacious, with wooden chairs all around. Isurus sat down, and the young man left his side. Isurus took the time to take in his surroundings. This was a nice office, much nicer than the ones in Holsith, and Isurus wondered how the practicioner could afford such a clean and grand office if he had such a bad reputation. Perhaps the superstition was only shared among the oldest members of this town.  
A tall sinewy man older by several years, with wavy dark hair and a beard, appeared at the entrance of the waiting room. Isurus stood up.  
"Master Eathe?" he inquired.  
The man smiled warmly at Isurus. "That would be me. And you are?"  
"My name is Isurus Dalfanghi. I am a scholar working for the Order, acting on behalf of the branch residing in Eiluned."  
"Ah, I see!" exclaimed the man. He walked up to Isurus and they shook hands. "A fellow researcher, then!"  
"I did not know you were a research practicioner," observed Isurus. In Holsith, there were no practicioners of the experimentating sort, and they were generally rare in the country. Master Eathe's occupation would explain why his place of practice was so luxurious, if he worked for a wealthy organization.  
Master Eathe smiled. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about me. I don't have the best reputation around these parts."  
"In truth, I come from Holsith," admitted the scholar. "One of your collegues recommended you for help."  
"From Holsith? It's rather uncommon for me to receive people from another town... And I am not usually recommended by my collegues. You must have quite the unusual predicament for this to be the case," said the practicioner with clear interest in his chestnut eyes.  
"Indeed I have," said Isurus. "And I hope you will be the answer to my problem."  
"Let us discuss this matter in my office," said Master Eathe. Isurus followed him deeper down the mosaic tiled hall, and they walked past a few closed doors.  
"Do you lead your experiments on site?" asked Isurus. He supposed the closed doors led to the praciticioner's current research, perhaps some subjects that he did not wish to be seen by the common visitor.  
"I'd rather not call them experiments, if you may. Patients, rather," said Master Eathe. His tone of voice was not reproving, but his words felt familiar to Isurus. He understood what the practicioner meant.  
"I see," simply answered the scholar. The practicioner hadn't entirely answered his question, but it was not Isurus' place to insist.

The praticioner entered a room that looked rather modest in comparison to the rest of the building. It was well-lit but smallish, covered in stacks of papers, scrawled notes and half-opened boxes of glassware supplies, the kind used in chemical research. Isurus was curious about what exactly was the practicioner's area of expertise, but Master Eathe was unusually discreet about the subject. Researchers were commonly quite boastful when discussing their studies with their collegues, which generally implied talking about living subjects like they were simple objects, and Isurus suspected that Master Eathe was not the kind to strip individuals of their humanity. He wondered how serious the cases Master Eathe experimented on were, and if he was often confronted with death. Researchers that studied the human body, mind and health usually stopped considering human subjects as such if they had a high rate of failures on their hands, because it was too difficult to continue research while remaining empathetic. Either the practicioner wasn't often faced with grim fates, either he had an endless well of empathy.   
"Please excuse the mess," said Master Eathe. "Patients are usually received in my other office. It looks much more professional."  
Isurus waved his hand politely. "I take no heed of messes in a working place. We all have different minds and methods."  
Master Eathe smiled, amused, and sat down. "Those are wise words all researchers should live by. Now, tell me, what brings you here exactly?"  
Isurus followed suit and set his coat on his lap, then crossed his hands over it. "Master Eathe, are you superstitious?"  
The practicioner looked surprised. "I am a practicioner and a researcher. I believe superstition does not have its place in our line of work."  
"I agree with you," nodded Isurus,"but there are many that do not reason in this way. The case I bring to you is a boy, about eleven years old. Tales and superstition claim that he could be dangerous, but what is disturbing is that history also does. There has never been a way to scientifically prove this danger, but no way to refute it either."  
"You caught my interest earlier, and your words make this case even more compelling." Master Eathe clasped his hands under his chin. "Please, tell me who this boy is."  
"His name is Triakis. He has red eyes, and that is the reason why I was unable to find a practicioner for him in my hometown." Isurus saw the practicioner lean in imperceptibly at those words, but he did not interrupt, so Isurus continued. "He has been living under my roof for a few months already, and is anything but dangerous. However, I have noticed some anomalies and cannot rule out the possibility that he might one day resemble one of the red-eyed individuals cited in stories, which is why I need a practicioner that is able to handle him without fear. I want him to live in normal conditions, as normal as they can be, and so I need a practitioner whom we could rely on were he to ever fall too sick for me to handle alone. I need someone I can count on, someone he can count on, and someone who is open-minded enough to consider him as a patient rather than just a red-eyed individual."  
Isurus set an elbow on the desk between them and gestured towards the practicioner. "My question, then, is the following : Master Eathe, would you agree to treat Triakis as one of your patients were he in need of a practicioner?"

Master Eathe stayed immobile, staring at him, his chin still resting on his laced fingers. Then his hands unfolded and he rose from his seat.  
"You bring me quite an interesting situation," said the practicioner. He turned to the window and gazed outside silently. Thoughtfully. Isurus did not say another word, and waited for the man's verdict.  
Master Eathe looked at him again, and went back to his seat. "I am not superstitious, far from it. I pride myself in being a reasonable and logical man. I know red-eyed individuals should be feared, but I've yet to encounter one myself, and I am not one to let my choices be clouded by hearsay. I will not consider your boy to be dangerous, if you tell me he is not, and I will never do so, unless he shows me otherwise. As a practicioner, I accept all kinds of patients. As a researcher, your boy piques my interest. I see no reason to turn you around."  
"Then you accept?"  
"Yes, I accept." Master Eathe laughed shortly. "My reputation surely cannot get any worse, and I am the kind of practicioner that accepts treating those who cannot find treatment anywhere else. It sounds that your boy, Triakis, is in the same predicament as my unfortunate patients. I will not refuse giving him help if he requires it."  
Isurus was relieved. "You have my thanks."  
"You should not thank me until I provide you with my services, my friend," cautioned the practicioner. "You do not know yet whether my methods are to your liking."  
"I do not," conceded Isurus. "But I know that you are not one to be swayed by rumors and superstition, which is more than I can say about any practicioner in Holsith. For that, you already have more of my trust than anyone of them."  
"I am glad to know that is how you feel, trust isn't something I easily obtain from others," answered Master Eathe with a smile. "Now, is this all you wanted to speak to me about, or is there something else you wish to know?"  
"Well, my first and foremost intention was to find a practicioner for Triakis. Secondly, I wished to bring Triakis to said practicioner for a check-up."  
Keen interest shone in Master Eathe's eyes anew. "Oh? Is your boy sick?"  
"No, no, no such thing," Isurus answered. "I have enough medical knowledge to know that he does not feel unwell physically, although he has a scar on his neck that has yet to heal completely. I am rather worried about his mental state."  
"I see. And you would like me to assess him mentally, then?"  
"If that is possible."  
"What kind of issues have you observed?" asked the practicioner.   
Isurus took a moment to gather his thoughts about all the things he had observed over the last few months, and explained the situation to Master Eathe. He insisted on Triakis' neediness, as it was a trait the boy predominently presented, and on his amnesia. He also mentioned how Triakis had broken down on his first evening in his new home. The practicioner frowned and nodded a few times, and he seemed concentrated. When Isurus was done telling him all that he felt was important to tell, Master Eathe leaned back in his chair.

"Given the nature of your boy's problems, I believe a mental assessment would distress him far more than would be beneficial," the practicioner finally said.  
"How so?" asked Isurus.  
"I usually conduct those assessments here, over several days, and for serious mental problems. Your child does not seem to be mentally ill from what you've described me, and I feel it would be useless to keep him away from you simply to assess that he is sane of mind, albeit slightly too dependent on you."  
"You mean to tell me that Triakis does not present any condition that warrants an examination from you? Despite his amnesia, his breakdown, the difficulty he has with coping with loneliness? Even I can tell that he is not healthy in that domain," said Isurus a bit dryly.  
Master Eathe smiled. "You misunderstand me. It is not that I do not wish to conduct an examination on your boy because of his nature or because I judge it worthless ; believe me, if my morals were not as solid as they are, I would ask you to bring Triakis here right now so I could examine him to my heart's content. The reason why I refuse to conduct a mental assessment is because I feel it would be detrimental to your child's well-being. The inconvenients of doing such a thing outweigh the advantages, if you may. For his sake, I would rather subdue my curiosity then have him stay here, far from his family."  
"I apologize, I was too hasty in judging your reply," answered Isurus. "Would there be no other way to assess him, then, besides bringing him here?"  
"I could send my assistant to Holsith with you," said Master Eathe. "However, I greatly rely on him here. I may consider this option if your boy presents additional issues later on. For now, Triakis seems to adapt well to his new life with you. The neediness could be a normal development for him, considering his amnesia."  
"That is what I thought, but what about his breakdown?"  
"It could be simply due to the great stress of having to adapt to a whole new environment when having just lost his memory. You told me he was afraid of forgetting again."  
Isurus nodded. "That could be the reason," he conceded. "However, his delirium sounded like it concerned something very specific."  
"That may be the case, but unless I witness this breakdown myself, there is no way to find out more."  
"I see."

Master Eathe was silent again, and then said : "If such a thing happens again, send a messenger bird for me. I will send Mouse to your house to examine Triakis as soon as we receive your message."  
"Very well... But who is Mouse?" questioned Isurus.  
The practicioner seemed briefly puzzled, and then caught himself and smiled derisively. "Forgive me, I most often forget to introduce my assistant. His name is Mau Jretta, but I am used to calling him Mouse, as most of Kollajan is as well. He takes no offense in being called that way."  
"That is an interesting name. Is there a reason for it?"  
"No particular reason," said Master Eathe. "Or maybe it is that he has a tendency to sneak around and listen to closed doors? Perhaps it is just that he is silent and discreet. It could be just his appearance. I've never really understood, but Mouse is how he presented himself when he volunteered to be my assistant."  
Isurus smiled. "I believe it fits him."  
"That it does," agreed the practicioner. Then he opened his hands and asked : "Do you have any other questions or concerns about Triakis?"  
"No," said Isurus. "I trust your decision. If you believe he will not benefit in a meeting with you in his current state, then there is nothing else I ask of you."  
"Very well," Master Eathe said with a smile. "Just let my assistant know that you are on the way out. Hopefully for Triakis, we will not need to see each other again, unless you experience a crippling interest in my research."  
"Indeed, although it might come to that," said Isurus as he stood up. "Our paths of research might cross one day, if either of us makes a breakthrough. Until then, I wish you luck."  
"As do I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pumpkin.  
> I present you Master Eathe, a strange doctor with a bad reputation, but the only one who accepts to look after Triakis. What do you think about him? And on a separate note, what did you think of the tense shift in this chapter?  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


End file.
